A Honeymoon to Remember
by Houddy
Summary: House and Cuddy finally set off on their honeymoon. Two weeks on a private island in the Caribbean. All Huddy all the time. WARNING: There most certainly is smut, it is there honeymoon after all.It also gets a bit dark toward the end.
1. Chapter 1

Here we are, House and Cuddy, on honeymoon. Sorry for the delay, but I finally got my new laptop after weeks of agonizing over which one to get. So now I can write my little heart out. :)

**HuntingPeace**: There will be cameos by Wilson and Lo, I believe, but this story has, at the moment, taken a very weird turn in my mind, so if the good folks at PPTH show up, it might be in a very unconventional way. I'm still working out those details.

**MetaphoricLove**: I don't think I can go down the baby road again, though I will not say never. In the meantime, I will try to upload _End of the Family Line_ here, only I will first have to find it. It wasn't on my flash drive with my other stories. Hopefully it's on my home computer. That deals with House and Cuddy having a baby and is the prequel to _The Life and Times of Lizzie House_.

But enough chit chat. The House's have been dying to get their honeymoon started so...here goes.

* * *

**-1-**

"Mile high, mile high, mile high." House had been chanting it since they boarded the private jet to their secret honeymoon destination.

"Not gonna happen." Cuddy had said it a hundred different ways by now, but none of them had seemed to get through to him.

"We're never going to get another chance like this." House looked around at the plush leather couches and fine painted walls. "There's no one else here but us…"

"And the pilot," Cuddy interjected.

"Who's busy flying the plane."

"And the stewardess," Cuddy tried again.

"Who I'm sure has explicit instructions not to bother us." He knew this because he had given her explicit instructions not to bother them, as well as a hundred dollar bill to ensure her compliance.

"I am not having sex on a plane." Cuddy protested although the idea did turn her on just a bit. And House was right, they would never get a better opportunity.

"Your loss." House tried his best to sound nonchalant.

"I think I can live with it." She called his bluff.

"Oh, come on." He whined, "I gave you're your wedding, the least you can do is give me a blow job?" He sounded more hopeful than he felt.

"You gave me my wedding? Are you implying that I didn't have to drag you through every step of it kicking and screaming?"

"I implied no such thing. I inferred that I could have called the whole thing off, just to spite you, but I didn't…"

"Because you love me." She wasn't going to let him make up some other reason.

"And because you love me, you're going to have sex with me, right here on this leather couch." He started taking off his shirt.

"What are you doing?" It wasn't a real question.

"Making it harder for you to say no." That was the truth. If he could get them naked enough, there was no way she could turn him down. It had gotten him out of a lot of trouble since he figured it out.

"You think that seeing you naked is going to make me go all weak in the knees and surrender to your sexual advances?" It would, but only if she wanted it to. House thought he had figured out a way to manipulate her, and it seemed useful to let him keep thinking that, but if she really wanted to say no, no amount of seduction would change her mind.

"I know it will." He slipped his pants off, not actually getting up from the couch, but doing this little quick lift and shimmy maneuver he had perfected in his years of laziness.

"Oh, am I supposed to be all hot and bothered right now?" she teased.

"Don't toy with me woman." House was down to his skivvies and there was no way he was turning back now.

"Would I toy with you?" she was unbuttoning her blouse.

"All the time," he said, watching excitedly.

"You poor, poor man," she teased, sliding the shirt down her arms.

"Yes, poor me. Now do something to make it better."

"But what could I possibly do?" she tossed the shirt onto his lap.

House grinned." I can make a few suggestions."

"I'm sure you could," she laughed as she pulled the tight black pants down her hips slowly. "But I've got it covered."

"Well, uncover it already!" he exclaimed.

"I will," she bent over and pulled the pants off, dropping them in a pile beside her. "But first, sit back, relax, and please put your tray table is in the upright position. "

His tray table was well on its way up.

Cuddy shoved him back against the couch and straddled him expertly. "You might want to fasten your seatbelt. It's going to be a bumpy ride."

House grinned giddily. "You are the best wife ever," he proclaimed as she began to kiss his chest.

She stopped what she was doing and looked him straight in the eyes. "I am never going to forget you said that."

"Yeah yeah," he said irritably. "Just don't stop what you were doing." Couldn't she work and talk at the same time? He thought women were good at multitasking.

"Whatever you say dear." She slipped her hand between their two bodies.

"Really?" He could think of a lot of things…

"No." She shook her head teasingly as she caressed his hot shaft.

"Okay." He wasn't about to argue with her, not when she was slipping a finger beneath his balls like that. "Oh!"

She smiled. She loved watching his expression change as she manipulated him. He tried so hard to look like he was in control, but she could see him cracking, first it was the mouth, which he had to leave open as his breath grew heavy, then it was in his eyes that glazed over as she expertly stroked him, then, when his skin started to take on that gentile sheen of sweat, that's when she knew he was putty in her hands.

She could feel him trying to hold back. He hated giving up control. But so did she. "You look a little flushed, maybe I should stop."

"If you stop now, I will kill you." He grabbed her hips and pulled her against him. Her hand was trapped between their two bodies, so she did the only thing she could do. She carefully pushed aside the small triangle of fabric preventing his penetration and pulled his cock deep inside her.

"OH YES!" He moaned, feeling her warmth surround him.

"God you're easy," she exclaimed as she moved around on top of him.

"Yeah, like you're the poster child for self control." He loved it when they talked while making love. He loved the sound of her voice. There was something so sexy about the throaty, raspy quality it sometimes had. She could easily have been a phone sex operator if she'd wanted. He would have been her best client.

"I'm not as bad as you." Everything was a competition with them. Hopefully it always would be. They both thrived on it.

"No, you're worse." House felt the edge of her panties rubbing against his cock. It was irritating beyond belief. "Oh, would you take those things off!" He was finding it hard to really appreciate what was going on between them.

"No," Cuddy said quickly. She knew it was driving him nuts, and thought of it as payback for all the times he drove her nuts.

"You've left me no choice." House grabbed the scant bit of fabric and pulled. He heard a few seams crack, but nothing happened. "Damn!" he proclaimed as Cuddy laughed between bitten lips. House tugged again. He was going to get the damned things off if it killed him.

Cuddy felt them tugging across her backside. "Stop it!" She pushed his hands away. "You win, I'll take them off." She pulled away from him.

"What? What was that you said?" House was grinning from ear to ear.

"I said I'd take them off." She was already on her feet, sliding them down her long, lean, slightly wobbly legs.

"No, before that. You said something…I can't quite recall…"

"I said stop it." She knew exactly what he expected her to say and she had no desire to say it again.

"Nope, that wasn't it either." He waited.

"Do you want to talk about what I said, or do you want to have sex?" To help him make up his mind, she flung one leg around him carefully, pressing her naked body against his.

"I'll take the sex please," he said oh so politely. He might be a stubborn man but he was not stupid. Sex was way better than being right.

As the plane made its way down the Atlantic coastline, House made his way down Cuddy's body. First exploring the twin mountains of her breasts, his fingers dancing across her peaks before heading down into the valley of her flat stomach, gliding effortlessly over her skin as though he'd made this trek a thousand times. Then he slipped deep into the dark canyon between her legs.

She responded to his touch, arching her back at times, kissing his neck at other times, her own hands sliding along his strong chest, wrapping around his thick waist and pulling him against her.

If asked, neither of them could have said how they ended up on the floor. Both were too wrapped up in each other to notice the fall, but it was House's head pressing against the couch they had started on that brought them back from their shared voyage of pleasure.

"Ouch! Not so hard." House put a hand up to protect his head from the rhythmic pounding it was getting.

Cuddy was done anyway, so she carefully slid off him and put her own hand over his. "Did I hurt you?" She said, kissing his head gently.

"A little," House decided to milk the sympathy and see how far he'd get.

Cuddy kissed his head again, like a mother kissing her bruised baby boy.

"Now the other one." House smiled and looked down at his other head. It, too, was feeling sore, though for an entirely different reason, and was in need of some TLC.

Cuddy obediently went down on him, kissing the very tip of his excited penis, then working her way slowly up its impressive length. Small, soft kisses against his hot flesh.

House felt the pressure building in his ears. "It feels like we're about to land," he said. He regretted it as soon as her head shot up and looked around. "Why'd you stop?"

"The stewardess!" Cuddy scrambled to her feet and hastily started to dress.

"She'll just have to wait her turn." House tried to take her hand, and get back to business, but she pulled back.

"Get up House. She'll be coming to collect our glasses and prepare us for the landing." She pulled on him, but he didn't budge.

House didn't move. He was quite comfortably sprawled out on the floor, naked except for his socks and a smile.

"At least get some clothes on." Cuddy threw his shirt at his head while she wrestled to get his jeans over his long legs.

"What about my underwear?"

"No time." Cuddy grabbed the boxers and shoved them in her purse. "Put your shirt on!"

As predicted, a few moments later there was a knock at the door. Fortunately they were both dressed now. The flight attendant, Trina, carefully opened the door. "…" she was about to speak when she saw House laying across the cabin floor. "Sir? Are you alright?" She rushed to his side.

"He's fine." Cuddy sighed.

"Can you believe I married this callous bitch," House snapped, accepting the pretty young woman's help. He let her pull him to his feet, offering little in the way of help. Part of him was hoping she couldn't lift his weight and would go toppling on top of him, then Cuddy would jump her in a jealous rage, and he would get to watch them fighting over him, but that didn't happen and he was soon on his feet. "She only married me for my money you know."

"What money?" Cuddy laughed.

"My insurance policy," House replied, his eye flicking back to the bewildered flight attendant in amusement. "Don't think I don't know about it. Hornstock tells me everything."

Cuddy was going to stop the little charade, but House was having such a good time with it, and if truth be known, so was she. "Did he also tell you we're sleeping together?"

"He mentioned something about you dissatisfying him, so I just assumed…" House shrugged.

"You're confusing me with your hand again dear." Cuddy smiled triumphantly. "Poor old man, he's a little senile you know." She looped her finger around her ear as one does when describing a crazy person. Trina wasn't sure what to think.

"We'll be landing shortly. You both need to sit down and fasten your seatbelts."

"Do I need to put my tray table in the upright position?" House asked suggestively.

"You could, but I don't think anyone would notice," Cuddy replied quickly. She was trying hard not to laugh, as was he.

"You don't have a tray table, sir." Trina was starting to believe he was a little mentally unstable. She scurried out of the cabin, leaving them to fend for themselves.

Cuddy couldn't help but laugh at the unintentional burn. House tried to ignore her as he struggled with his seatbelt.

"Oh, let me do that," cuddy pushed his hands away and buckled his belt quickly.

A few minutes later they felt the plane touch down. It was a surprisingly smooth transition from air to land. House looked out his window for his first glance at paradise, but all he saw was a whole lot of nothing surrounded by a whole lot of water.

"This trip better be refundable," he said, looking out on the flat, barren island.

"House, we didn't pay for it." Cuddy craned her head over his shoulder to see where they were.

The captain's voice explained things to them over the loud speaker. "We have just landed on The Midway. Lester Gooms will be waiting to take you to Isola." It wasn't much of an explanation, but House was relieved to discover that this wasn't their final destination.

What it was, they discovered, was a small, barren island used solely as a landing point for Damien Wilde's private jet.

"Exactly how much money does your boyfriend have?" House asked as he followed Cuddy off the plane.

"He's not my boyfriend House. And I don't know." She was wondering the same thing as they looked around at Damien's private plane parking lot.

House stopped and looked at a row of airplanes. His jaw hung down as he ticked off each model. "He's got an XP-81."

"A what?" Cuddy stopped and followed his eye line.

"An XP-81. And look, a P51 Mustang and an SE5." House hadn't learned much from his father, but he certainly knew his military vehicles, and planes had always been his favorite, not that he'd ever admit that to John House.

"I'm going to assume you're talking about airplanes and move on." Cuddy headed toward the lone man standing near a small dock at the end of the runway.

House had always dreamed of going up in a biplane like the SE5. He imagined himself fighting the Red Baron in the skies over Europe. Soaring through the clouds, doing loops in the air. He wondered if Damien would let him go up in one.

"Are you coming?" Cuddy was anxious to get to their final destination. She had worked up a bit of an appetite on the plane, and wanted to freshen up a bit as well.

House shook his head as he hobbled down the pavement. Maybe he could trade his nagging wife in for that Fokker EV. His eyes followed the WWI biplane as he walked past.

Lester Gooms turned out to be a haggard old seadog. The kind of man one would find in one of Stephen Kings quaint but disturbing New England coastal towns.

"Follow me," he said gruffly, obviously not thrilled to see them. "We've been expecting you."

"We?" Cuddy took House's hand, mostly to keep him from wondering off.

"Isn't that what the creepy evil sidekick says to the poor unsuspecting couple just before they get hacked to pieces by the crazy guy living in the old rundown shack?"

"I don't see a rundown shack House. I think we're safe." Cuddy helped him out of the boat carefully.

"What about that?" House pointed to an old shed.

"Oh, shut up House."

The boat was fast and flashy and did not at all fit the persona of Lester Gooms. Clearly he had been instructed to pick them up in it. He was clearly not instructed to tell them anything, because he didn't speak for the short trip to their new, temporary home.

"How many people will be on the island with us?" Cuddy asked, attempting to get some information out of him.

Gooms focused on the sea.

Cuddy took the hint and didn't ask further questions, realizing she should have gotten more details from Damien when he first offered the use of his island.

"We're here," Gooms announced. His unspoken message was 'get out', which they readily did.

"He was pleasant," House said as they watched the boat head back out to sea.

"That's exactly what I said about you when we first met."

"Was it really?"

Cuddy giggled a little. "No."

"What was the first thing you thought about me when we first met?" House was too curious for his own good.

"You really want to know?" Cuddy was trying to decide if she really wanted to tell him.

"Yes." House looked her in the eye. He really did want to know.

"I told you. I thought I wanted to marry you someday." She blushed.

"But that's not the first thing you thought. That's not a gut reaction. That takes deduction. What was your first reaction, your very first thought?"

"I don't remember," she lied.

House looked at her face, she was trying too hard to look him in the eye. "You're lying. You do remember. Tell me." He wasn't going to let this drop.

"No." She tried walking away but he stopped her.

"Tell me."

"No." She tried to go the other way, but he stopped her.

"I'll push you into the water if you don't tell me." He would too.

"I thought you were a jerk." And she was kind of thinking it again now.

"Ha!" Unlike most men, House took this as good news. "I knew it."

"You knew what?"

"I told Bobby Spencer you only slept with me out of pity."

"I only slept with you because I was drunk." She realized what he'd said. "You told Bobby Spencer I slept with you?"

"Wanna here what I thought when I first saw you?" House quickly moved on.

"Not really." Cuddy hesitated to think what he could possibly say.

"I thought, 'that's the girl I'm going to marry some day'." House grinned, so pleased with himself until Cuddy shoved him and he nearly fell off the pier.

"You must be Mr. and Mrs. House," a female voice caught their attention. "I am Quintessa Parilla. I will be taking care of you while you are here."

"Well, I need a bathroom." House was his usual blunt self.

Quintessa smiled politely. Damien had warned her about Dr. House. "Right this way Dr. House." She turned and led them up a slight, cobbled hill. "Mr. Wilde has told us this is your honeymoon. You are not to be disturbed. You will not even know we are here."

"Who else is here?" Cuddy asked.

"There is Chef St. Pierre," Quintessa stopped and turned to face them both. "He is a handful, that one. I will try to keep him away from you." She turned again and headed up the steps of a great stone house. "And of course me and my daughter. That is it."

House watched the tall, striking woman as she opened the large wooden doors and led them inside. She was just slightly younger than him, and very beautiful. He wondered what she was doing playing housekeeper on a deserted island when she could be living a life of luxury as the mistress to some oil tycoon or billionaire businessman.

"You should have seen the state of this place before Mr. Wilde bought it. It was near ruins. Dam…Mr. Wilde restored the main house and the old pier and built the little oasis you are going to be staying in."

House hadn't missed the little name slip and an image of Damien coming here to play house entered his mind. Perhaps Quintessa was billionaire Damien's mistress. "Does he come here often?" House's curiosity was roused again.

"He comes when he comes." Quintessa didn't sound like a pining mistress waiting for her man to sail ashore. "Mr. Wilde is a hard man to keep track of. Now, the toilet is that way." She pointed down an open hallway bordered on one side by a beautiful courtyard. "We will wait here for you. Unless you…"

"I'm fine." Cuddy was much too busy looking around to stop and use the restroom. "Do you live here Ms. Parilla?"

"Call me Quintessa. No I do not live here. But I come to visit whenever I like. Mr. Wilde has been a very generous man." Cuddy smiled. "You must be very special to him, Dr. House."

Cuddy winced. "Call me Lisa." It was going to take a long time before she was comfortable being called Dr. House.

"Well, Lisa, if you do not fall in love with this place by the end of the week, I will think something is very wrong with you."

"Something is very wrong with her," House said, coming back from the bathroom. "She married me."

"Nobodies perfect." Cuddy wrapped her arms around House as he stood close beside her.

"You're proof of that," he replied, giving her a squeeze.

"I will show you to where you will be staying," Quintessa said, looking up toward the darkening sky.

House and Cuddy followed Quintessa down a compacted dirt path. It was crude, but well kept. House's suitcase tipped over a number of times and he interrupted into a stream of obscenities that grew exponentially with each crash.

"I can take that for you." Quintessa looked at him with thinly veiled annoyance.

House ignored her, beating his suitcase into submission with a well placed kick.

"We are almost there," Quintessa informed them as they began to make their way across a rather hazardous looking suspension bridge. "This is the only way to get too and from the Oasis, so you will be quite private."

Cuddy looked over the side of the high bridge and didn't much like the view. It was a long way down to the river below.

"That's quite a drop," House said, making her nervous by leaning over her head.

"Yes, it is." Quintessa hurried them across. She wasn't all that fond of the bridge herself. "But this is the only way across the river."

"Couldn't Damien build a new bridge?" With all that man's money House found it odd that he wouldn't build a new one.

"This is a new bridge Dr. House. Mr. Wilde had it built specially. He assures me it is perfectly safe, but I still do not like to cross it that much." Quintessa was quite happy to be back on solid ground, and waited for the two travelers to join her.

"I don't blame you." House was so happy to be on solid ground again he nearly bent over to kiss it. "Damien should sue the builders. That bridge is a menace."

"Mr. Wilde ordered it to look like this. He feels that it suits the island." Quintessa rolled her eyes. Damien was a nice guy, sweet, generous, a great lover, but he had some strange little quirks.

"Well it doesn't suit me," House announced, like anyone cared.

Quintessa laughed. "Me either, Dr. House." She picked up the pace now that they were once again on solid ground.

"Where are we going anyway?" House was huffing and puffing trying to keep up.

Cuddy put a hand on her back and groaned. "Quintessa, do you mind if we stop for a moment?" House knew she was faking and gave her a grateful smile.

"Of course, Mrs…Lisa. I did not mean to rush you. I only want to get back over the bridge before nightfall."

"Oh, man up Cuddy." House said with false bravado, avoiding her eye. "We'll just go a little slower, so you can keep up." He turned and began to follow Quintessa.

Cuddy growled under her breath but said nothing.

"Well, Mr. Wilde calls it Pirate's Cove, because it used to be a hide out spot for the most fearsome pirates in all of the Caribbean. But I think that is a horrible name for such a beautiful spot." She turned through an opening in the thick bush. "I think he should rename it, call it The Oasis," she said the name with a flourish. "But you see for yourself, and you tell me which name you think is best."

House and Cuddy followed her through the gate they hadn't even known was there and entered a good sized clearing. It wasn't large, maybe a couple acres, but almost all of it was beach front. There was a small grass hut a few feet from the shore, a hammock hanging between two trees, a large fire pit, a small canoe and several variety of fruit filled trees all on the softest, finest white sand they had ever seen.

At the far end of the beach, there was a path. "That leads to a private lagoon. It's where they say the treasures are buried." She stopped and pointed to a thatched roof villa. "And this is your new home."

It was exquisite. The walls consisted mostly of open air. Large windows from floor to ceiling were all open and letting in a beautiful ocean breeze. The villa was one big room, with tall pillars separating the sleeping space from the living space and dining veranda. The kitchen was against a solid wall marking the far end of the villa. Behind it was the fully enclosed bathroom. It was clearly a house meant for two.

House watched as Quintessa flitted around like lady of the manor, checking that everything was perfect. She looked so comfortable in her surroundings that House wondered how many nights she had spent there with the lord of the manor.

"Pierre has prepared a meal for you. I am sure you are most hungry." Cuddy nodded in affirmation. "Then I will let you alone to eat." She handed House a small remote control. "This controls everything in the villa. It is all labeled. If you need anything, you press this button and it will call the Great House."

"Thank you Quintessa." Cuddy was anxious to get rid of the woman and sit down to dinner.

With their hostess gone, House pulled out Cuddy's chair then sat beside her. Both their chairs faced the beach. House thought that was a nice touch.

"This salmon is perfect." It wasn't necessarily House's favorite meal, but it was Cuddy's, and he wasn't surprised to see that Damien had catered more toward her favorites than his. Still he was done before her and eyed her plate hungrily.

"If you touch my food, I will hurt you." Cuddy was serious. She was starving and this was the best grilled salmon she'd ever tasted.

"Well hurry up then. I want to take a look around before dark." House hated sleeping in an unfamiliar place. Who knows what could be roaming around out there?

House began tapping his cane on the hard tile floor impatiently. The more he tapped, the slower Cuddy ate.

"Are you done yet?" He sounded like the wait was killing him.

Cuddy gave it a nice long thought. There wasn't much left on her plate, but every bite of it had been Heaven, and she wasn't about to let a piece of Heaven go to waste. "No." She took another bite.

"Oh, for the love of god would you eat faster!" House grabbed the fork out of her hand and shoveled a big hunk of fish onto it. He then pushed the fork at her closed mouth. "Open, or you'll be wearing this."

She opened her mouth, knowing full well he would go through with his threat. She was surprised when he very gently slid the fork into her mouth. She had been bracing for the worst.

"Now, let's go." House got up and held out his hand.

"Fine, but I've got to do one more thing first." She vanished into the bathroom and came out a couple minutes later to find House fiddling with the remote.

"We have got to get one of these." He had turned the lights down, put on some soft music, lit a fire in the stone fireplace and drawn down some of the walls that doubled as shades.

"We're not getting one House." Cuddy took it from him and put it on the counter.

"You never let me have anything good," House pouted.

"Really? I never let you have anything good?" She had placed herself in his arms, sliding them gently around her waist. Then she got up on her toes and kissed him just to the side of his mouth. He loved when she did that.

"You can let me have something good after we look around." He really wanted to look around. The sun was going to set soon and there wasn't much time. There was plenty of time, however, for something good later on.

"I don't think so." She kissed his neck gently.

"Why not?" He gulped, knowing he was about to lose this fight.

"I don't want you to get worn out." She smiled and pulled away, her hand holding his as she walked him toward the bed.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you to everyone who has written a review. I do appreciate knowing that others are enjoying this story as much as I am.

* * *

**-2-**

House opened one eye carefully and was greeted by a bright, burning light. It was morning. Cuddy was curled up in his arm, her beasts peeking out over the top of the satin sheets they had spent the night fumbling around in. She looked beautiful, but her big head had cut off the circulation to his arm, so House adeptly removed himself from the situation in a move he had learned to master shortly after they moved in together.

Free from his sexy little prison House stretched out and rubbed life back into his dead arm. He really would have liked to slip back under the covers and go to sleep, but he found himself wide awake, staring at the thatched ceiling and thinking about the future.

He shook it off quickly. He wasn't a man who thought about the future. Or perhaps it was that he never really had a future to think about. He looked over at Cuddy. She had dramatically changed his life, and he wasn't sure he would ever forgive her for it. He also knew there was no way he could ever thank her enough.

He brushed a wisp of hair out of her face and kissed her cheek gently before heading for the kitchen. He had worked up quite an appetite since dinner.

House swung open the fridge door and was greeted by the most wonderful image. The fridge was fully stocked with his favorite beer, some great snacks, and a pitcher of what looked like very freshly squeezed orange juice. Considering the sun wasn't completely up yet, he opted for the orange juice instead of the beer.

The remote was sitting on the counter, blinking at him. He picked it up as he carried his juice to the cozy love seat. There was a text message written across the small screen. According to the message, they could either help themselves to anything they found in the well stocked kitchen, or could order something from the main house and it would be brought down to them.

House opted to order out since the other option was him cooking. Cuddy was still fast asleep, and he didn't have the guts to wake her up to cook for him, not on the first full day of their honeymoon. He'd do it later, when they'd settled in a bit.

"Your omelet will be ready in half an hour," Quintessa assured him. Good. That was enough time to go for a dip.

House walked down the beach and into the water. It was warm and inviting. So clear he could see his feet sinking into the sand as he went deeper and deeper into the sea. Finally, he let his knees go weak and sunk into the warm caress of the water.

He enjoyed swimming. It was one of the few activities he could do without thinking about his leg. It was one of the things he could still do to make himself feel strong and virile. Making love to Cuddy was the other.

Some length of time passed before Cuddy woke up. She extended her arm, searching for him. "House?" She mumbled, half asleep. "Where'd you go?" She pulled her head off the pillow. It was heavier than normal. Flying usually knocked her out, but she had a feeling it was the fact that they didn't actually get any sleep until about three in the morning that was having a greater impact.

House was not within earshot, and therefore didn't answer, so she wrapped herself up in the most luxurious satin sheets she'd ever slept on and dragged herself out of bed. She noticed something moving out of the corner of her eye and turned toward the beach.

House was doing the backstroke when she called out to him. "The water is perfect," he replied, though she hadn't really asked. He stopped swimming and turned toward her. He chuckled at her draped form, staring at him from the beach. "Take that thing off and come join me."

"I'm going to make some breakfast." She was starving.

"I already ordered some." House's head was bobbing on the surface of the water like a buoy. "It should be here soon."

"Then maybe you should come and get dressed." She had a feeling he wasn't wearing his swim trunks.

House swam in as far as he could before rising to his feet. Cuddy watched with a smile as his naked form rose out of the turquoise sea, water dripping from his body and glistening in the morning sun. He slowly strode forward, carefully, methodically working out the proper steps to de-emphasis his limp. There was nothing sexy about a limp.

He liked that she was watching him, her eyebrow arched, a small smile on her lips. She liked what she saw, despite all his flaws, she thought he was hot. It was the kind of feeling that bolstered a man's ego, even an aging, crippled man. House tried not to grin too much. It ruined the effect.

She kept her gaze on him as he slowly inched his way across the hot sand, his feet sinking in with each step, leaving a soggy trail in his wake. She didn't budge as he walked up close to her. He could feel her breath hit his wet body. It gave him a chill.

She took a deep breath, waiting for the inevitable kiss. Her heart was pounding so loud with anticipation that it took a moment for her to realize what he was doing as he dropped his head down and started shaking it furiously. She felt the water shooting out from his hair, attacking her from all angles.

"Don't!" She protested. "You're getting me wet!" She ran back a few steps, out of range.

"Now that's what I like to hear." He smiled and chased after her.

Neither of them heard the knock at the door.

"Would you put that thing away," Cuddy tossed a towel at his head. "I'm going to get dressed." She vanished into the huge bathroom/changing room/closet suite.

"It's a waste of time," House called to her, wrapping the towel around his waist.

"What's a waste of time?" A young woman was putting a large silver tray on the counter and looking at him curiously.

House jumped but recovered quickly from his surprise. "Paperwork, sitting in traffic, any movie staring Jack Black…"

"I like Jack Black." The girl smiled at him.

"Of course you do." House sighed and walked over to the table, leaning hard on his cane. He gave the girl the once over as she began to set the table for him. She looked about sixteen maybe seventeen. She had her mother's hourglass figure and long flowing hair. She was wearing a short, flippy little shirt that swished around her thighs when she walked. If he weren't a married man…

"Who are you talking to?" Cuddy came out looking downright demure in her sarong and bikini top. "Oh! Hello?" Cuddy looked at the young woman who was bent over putting forks on the table, then at House whose eyes were making a bee line down the girl's shirt.

"Hello. I am Adrianna." The girl seemed oblivious to House's ogling and came over to shake Cuddy's hand. "I will be helping my mother to get you everything you need. I brought your breakfast."

"I see that." Cuddy felt her stomach rumble a little at the sight of the twin omelets. "But please knock next time." She didn't like the idea of being barged in on.

"I did, ma'am."

"Leave the poor girl alone." House defended her.

"Fine." Cuddy came over and took the napkins from the younger woman. "I can finish this."

Adrianna could take a hint. She gave House a little wave before vanishing back through the door.

"She seems nice." House said, knowing it would get under Cuddy's skin.

"I'm sure she is." Cuddy placed a napkin rather abruptly into his lap.

"And you seem jealous," he teased.

"I'm not jealous!"

"You expect me to believe that?" House knew she was.

"If she wants you, she can have you." Cuddy wasn't looking at him. He was too good at reading her emotions. She couldn't risk proving him right.

"Really?" House perked up.

"What do you think?" Cuddy sat down and started to eat.

"I think…"

"I wasn't asking." It wasn't so much that House was looking that bothered her. The girl was right there, practically spilling into his face. He'd have to be dead not to look. It was the fact that he thought she was jealous that bothered her. She wasn't jealous. She knew she was still hot. Sure, she might not be as young, or as nubile, and maybe not quite as stacked, but she was still hot…wasn't she?

"She's got nothing on you, Cuddy." House's eyes sparkled as he remembered every curve of his wife's body. Late at night, when he couldn't sleep, he would stare at her, memorizing every freckle and blemish, every bruise she didn't know how she'd gotten, the dark hairs on her arm that seemed to grow every which way. There was not a single thing he would change…although…Adrianna did have very nice breasts.

"House?"

"What?" He snapped out of a daydream of an enhanced Cuddy.

"I said thank you." She smiled at him warmly. He really could be a sweetheart sometimes.

"Uh, you're welcome." He was very glad she couldn't read his mind.

After breakfast, House dragged Cuddy down to the water.

"I thought you wanted to look around." She was playing hard to get, just because she could.

"Yeah, I want to explore you, under water." He slid his fingers into the knot of her sarong and pulled it open.

"I don't know, House." She pulled his hands away, but let the sarong fall to the ground. She had paid a lot of money for this swimsuit. She didn't mind flaunting it a bit.

"That's not a 'no'." He pressed up against her, kissing her deeply. It was all she could do to keep her balance, so she wrapped her arms around his waist tightly.

"Not yet, it's not." Cuddy loved being wrapped up in his strong arms.

"You're just afraid I'll out swim you." He knew she couldn't back down from a challenge.

"No," she struggled to fight the urge to prove him wrong. He was trying to manipulate her, she knew that, so she had to stay strong.

"I'll even give you a head start," he said, manipulating a bit more.

"I don't need a head start." It had worked. Without another word, she dove into the water and started swimming away. House called her something she couldn't quite here, and she heard him splash into the water behind her. "To the waterfall," she instructed, making a bee line toward the finish line.

The Oasis, as Quintessa called it, was a long stretch of low land hidden between two mountainous hills. One side, the side they'd entered on, was a slow sloping incline. A long path wound carefully through the trees making the decent seem marginal, though, looking back at it from the Oasis, it proved to be a rather formidable incline.

The other side, the side they were now swimming toward, was much different. No slopping hills covered this expanse of land. Instead it was one long, sharp cliff. There was an unseen lake at the top of the cliff which provided a steady flow of water down the very waterfall they were headed for.

As they grew closer House picked up speed and eased past her with just a few feet left to go. He heard her mumbling a curse under her breath as he went out of his way to kick water into her face.

She watched with annoyed pride as he slipped under the waterfall and out of view. Make no mistake, Cuddy loved winning. She had always been competitive by nature, but seeing House flourish in a physical activity, seeing him active again, like he was when they were younger, always made her happy. So yes, she had lost this race, and would surely be taunted by House because of it, but she felt it was an acceptable loss and would happily loose again if it meant seeing House push himself physically without a thought to his damaged leg.

She took a deep breath and plunged underneath the clear blue water. When she came up again she was on the back side of the waterfall, in a hidden cavern carved out of the forbidding rock ages ago. She could just make out House's form, laying in the dark sand, resting his weight on his elbows and watching for her.

"You took your time," he teased, as she knew he would.

"I was waiting to see if anything attacked you before I went swimming into some dark, mysterious cave." She slowly rose out of the water and walked toward him.

"HA!" He knew she hadn't let him win. Swimming was one of his best sports. He watched her drop down beside him. "Nice place." He glanced around the damp, dark cavern.

"It's dark, and a little cool." She shivered as the cool cavern air brushed her wet skin.

"It's private," House said, accentuating the positive. He had a feeling that Adrianna's sudden appearance in the Villa had made his wife a little sex shy. "We can get away with anything in here." He let his hand slide slowly along her thigh.

"Did you have something in mind?" She smiled, turning her head to face him.

"Still do," he grinned.

"Well, so do I." She wasn't going to just lie around waiting for him to move his lazy ass. She wrapped her leg around him and gently slid her body on top of his.

Straddling her husband, Cuddy slipped her bikini top off with ease. She hadn't tied it tightly, assuming it would be coming off in the very near future, and she was right. She let it fall into the sand beside them as she took House's sand covered hands and placed them gently on her breasts.

The sand felt rough against her delicate skin, but she didn't find it unpleasant at all. The particles of sand rolled around between them adding a whole new dimension to what had become an almost daily ritual.

She brought her face down to his, digging her hands into the sand to hold herself up. Tendrils of wet hair hung down into his face and he had to spit out one rogue strand that was fighting its way into his mouth. "Invest in an elastic," he said, pushing her hair aside and looking into her beautiful blue eyes.

"Shut up and kiss me," she leaned in and he eagerly obliged. Their tongues fought for dominance in their mouths. Cuddy was determined to win, seeing as how House had just won their swimming contest, so she took him by the wrists and pinned his arms over his head. He didn't put up much of a fight. He could see this was going to be a win-win situation for them both.

She kissed the length of his neck, then his chest, her tongue flicking playfully over each nipple. He craned his neck to watch her. He enjoyed watching her, even if all he could really see was the top of her head. He turned his head to the side as her soft lips grazed against his stomach. Their hands were pressed together, fingers intertwine. He could see the glint of her wedding ring in the small bit of sunlight that fought its way through the water.

That small band of platinum wasn't supposed to change anything. He had told himself over and over that it was just an antiquated, meaningless symbol. It wasn't supposed to validate their relationship. At least not in his mind. He knew they didn't need validating.

Still, as he looked at the small but expensive symbol of their love, he couldn't help but feel something. She loved him enough to declare it to the world, to commit to him until death, or a good divorce lawyer do them part. It was a foolish thing to do, really. He wasn't going to be a great husband, or give her all the things she dreamed of, like a family of her own, but she did it anyway. She had decided that he was all she needed. There was no way he couldn't appreciate that fact. He never thought he'd be enough for anyone. Especially not after the Infarction.

That ring represented the fact that she chose him when she could have had anyone. She could have had Damien Wilde, the sexy, fun billionaire, and she still chose him. She could have had Drake Holmsby, the star pitcher, top of his class, old money frat boy back in college, but she'd chosen him, and he'd broken her heart. A mistake he never wanted to make again.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked, looking up at him.

"Nothing." He turned his focus back to her.

"Good. I don't want you distracted." She stood up and slipped the bikini bottoms off. She tossed them at his head.

"Not distracted." He said with the eloquence of a Neanderthal. He focused on her body, outlined by the light coming through the waterfall behind her. It was a Heavenly sight. "You're beautiful."

She smiled. She never got tired of hearing that. "Thank you."

"Aren't you going to tell me I'm beautiful," he teased.

"I'd rather show you," she purred as she pressed down on top of him, kissing his sandy shoulders and chest. Realizing the error in judgment, she sat up and wiped him off before resuming her oral exploration.

"You know, if we keep going at this pace, we'll be sick of each other by the end of the honeymoon." He blatantly lied.

"You'll never get sick of me," she said as she slid against his body.

"Not if you promise to keep doing that!" It was a move she'd not done before. "Where did you…."

"Lo gave me a book," she said cryptically.

"What…kind…of…BOOK!" House spread his legs a bit wider, giving her more room to maneuver.

"Shhh," She pressed her finger to his lips. She could feel his hot breath hitting it in short, heavy bursts. She dug her knees deeper into the sand and leaned back, holding her ankles and bending her body into the most beautiful arc House had ever seen.

He grabbed her waist, sliding his hands gently down her hips. He would have grabbed her backside, but it was pressed against him, and he didn't dare disrupt what she was doing. Instead he satisfied himself by slipping a finger against her moist lips. He could feel himself slipping in and out of her, feel his hair mingling with hers each time she pressed down upon him. He let his fingers dance against her and watched as her face contorted with pleasure.

"Was this in your book?" He asked quickly, before it became too difficult to speak.

"Yes….but…" It was her turn to gasp with pleasure, trying to find enough breath to get out her short words.

"I don't need a book," he informed her as he slipped his finger up toward her clit. He could feel her whole body shudder on top of him. He had discovered the book a while ago. Cuddy kept it hidden in her book case, behind a medical dictionary he had used as a step stool when he hid her ring on top of the book case. He had memorized it, cover to cover. It was a very descriptive book. Not the Kama Sutra, but damned close.

He felt himself explode inside her. He had tried to hold out. He liked driving her wild, but between the physical exhaustion of their swim, and the grittiness of the sand, and the pounding rhythm of the waterfall, he simply didn't have it in him to wait.

But that didn't mean he was done. He was still inside her, throbbing, moving so subtly she couldn't stand it. He was also rubbed her, sometimes fast and hard, then slow and gentle. It was the alternation that really sent a woman into an 'eruption of sex' according to the book. House wanted to see just what this 'eruption of sex' looked like.

She was quivering on top of him now. She could feel the pressure building inside her. His plan was working. She was making noises, short, sharp gasps and grunts. He loved it when she made noise. He knew she didn't like to, so it meant she had lost control. He had caused her to lose control. The power of that was intoxicating.

Suddenly, a hot, sticky liquid came gushing out of her. She cried out.

"YES!" House had done it again. It wasn't easy to get her to ejaculate, but he had done it once, years ago, when she was young and dismissed it as inexperience and he had done it again now. It had embarrassed her then, though he'd assured her it was perfectly natural. He failed to mention that it was a huge boost to a guys ego, if he could unearth the elusive female ejaculation.

"Oh my god!" Cuddy was still feeling the tremors of her eruption. She hadn't felt this amazing in, well, hours really.

"Yes, yes I am." House was practically beaming. This day was going to go in his diary. He was going to start a diary, just so he could make a note of today's accomplishments. His cheeks were already starting to hurt from smiling.

"You're awfully proud of yourself," she said, huffing exhaustedly.

"I am." House did a little victory dance while still on his back. He couldn't be bothered getting up for it, but it had to be done.

Cuddy rolled her eyes.

"Could we do that again?" He wanted to try again, before he forgot what he'd done to open the flood gates.

"Not now." She was truly exhausted. She didn't even think she could stand, and wasn't at all sure how she was going to get back to their little Villa. She might just have to spend the rest of her life lying here naked in his arms, hidden behind a waterfall while the rest of the world went about their business, none the wiser.

"Please?" House really wanted to try again. She got to make him ejaculate constantly. All she had to do was bend over and he could already feel the fluids pumping.

"You're begging?" She mustered up enough strength to prop herself up on one elbow.

"I am. And you know I'm not a begging man." House sat up and clasped his hands together. He made quite a pathetic looking face then said, "pleeeeease? Please, please, please."

She couldn't help but laugh. He looked so adorable. "Just let me rest for a few hours…"

"HOURS?"

"House, I'm exhausted…"

"I'll do all the work." House rolled himself on top of her.

"You know it never happens that way." She pushed him off with some effort.

"So what are we going to do now?" House collapsed beside her.

"Relax? We're on vacation." She nuzzled her head into his shoulder and put her hand on his chest. She could feel his heart beating and was surprised when the pounding urgency of it lulled her to sleep.

House couldn't sleep. He wanted to climb to the top of the cliff and shout to the world how much he loved her. He hadn't felt this way in years. The first few weeks with Stacy had been like this, almost. But they faded quickly.

He had been so determined for Stacy to be the one. There were things about her that reminded him of Cuddy. Her hair had been longer when they met, and dark like Cuddy's. And she had a quick wit and competitive streak like Cuddy, but it didn't take him long to realize she wasn't Cuddy.

He had convinced himself that he could be happy with Stacy, she was great in bed, she was challenging, she was friends with Cuddy and Wilson. He probably could have been happy with her, but she never would have been satisfied with him. She knew. He could see it in her eyes when she looked at him a certain way. She knew he wasn't 100 committed to their relationship. She knew he was in love with someone else. He never asked her if she knew who it was. He didn't want to know he was that obvious.

Cuddy breathed softly against his chest. It amazed him that she never knew. He made up any excuse to be near her. Cameron had been right when she equated him to the little boy who pulled the pigtails of the girl he liked. She had just gotten the wrong girl. He didn't torment Cuddy because he wanted to punish her for the surgery she performed on his leg, though that was definitely part of it. He tormented her because it meant he could spend time with her.

He didn't have to do that anymore, but that didn't mean he would stop. He'd figured out long ago that she liked it. She liked being challenged by him because no one else had the guts to do it. The hospital staff feared her. She was young and powerful and female and most of the stodgy old men who worked for her didn't know how to handle that.

She moaned in her sleep and he wondered if she was dreaming about him. He certainly hoped she was.

House eventually drifted off to sleep. There wasn't much to look at in the cave, and he didn't like where his mind was taking him, so he willed himself to shut down. It was a trick he had learned not long after the Infarction. Before he had managed to get illegal prescriptions to supplement the scant amount she was allowing him.

Cuddy was the first to wake up. She felt refreshed after her long nap. She pulled herself out of his arms and found her bikini scattered on the sandy shore. She rinsed it off before slipping it back on. The light through the waterfall had faded but she had no idea what time that meant it was.

House groaned and turned a little in his sleep. He looked so peaceful that she felt guilty waking him, but they were running out of daylight and still had to get back to the villa. She tried to splash around in the water, hoping the noise would wake him, but it didn't, so she splashed handfuls of water toward him, but he just turned away from it.

"House," she whispered in his ear. "It's time to go back."

"Don't wanna," House mumbled in his sleep.

"Don't care," she informed him, pulling at his arm. "It's time to go."

"Why are you so mean to me?" He asked, opening his eyes in a series of quick blinks.

"It makes me happy," she responded, in no mood for his poor me routine. "Now get up."

"Yes Mommy." He groaned, and rolled over onto his back before struggling to his feet. "What time is it?" The cave seemed darker than before.

"I have no idea." She sank into the water, pulling him along with her. "But we'd better get back before we're stuck here." They must have slept for hours.

"That wouldn't be the worst thing in the world." House swam up to her and pulled her into yet another embrace. He liked holding her, just because he could. For years he'd had to look but not touch, and now he got to touch, any time he wanted.

"No, but dinner would be better." She was hungry again. It seemed like not long ago that they had breakfast, but more than half the day had passed and it was well past lunch time.

They swam back to the beach together. They were both too weary for a race.

House wanted to call up to Quintessa for food, but Cuddy decided to make something from the kitchen. There were several prepackaged gourmet meals for her to choose from. All made by Pierre St. Pierre specifically for them.

"Can you check to see that that gate is locked." Cuddy was slaving away in the kitchen, but she was already thinking about dessert, and did not want some hot little teenager barging in again.

"Don't be so paranoid." House went and checked anyway. He knew Cuddy wouldn't relax unless she felt they were safe from intruders.

Dinner was a quiet, subdued affair. They chatted about nothing in particular and shared their plates with one another. Cuddy had a marvelous stir fry, while she had chosen a nice pot roast meal for House. Everything was delicious.

"I hope Wilson remembered to reschedule the Gerbler meeting." Cuddy was thinking about work. She had promised she wouldn't, but they both knew she couldn't keep that promise.

"Don't you trust him?" House laughed.

"It's not that I don't trust him," she started backpedaling.

"You shouldn't. That cougar has already made a pass at him. She'll probably withdraw her donation if he doesn't sleep with her."

"Why wouldn't he?" Cuddy knew Wilson's reputation. He'd sleep with almost anyone. Certainly with anyone needy enough; and Mrs. Gerbler was about as needy as they got. She was a wreck of plastic surgery and bad taste. She would do anything for a man's attention.

"Maybe I told him not to. Just to screw with you." House teased. He knew Cuddy wouldn't let anyone else handle any real work. She was a control freak when it came to that hospital.

"I'm going to call him." She got up and headed to the phone.

"Leave him alone." House got up and followed her.

"Then you call him." She handed him the phone. "Ask him about the Gerbler meeting."

"I'm not going to ask him about the…oh, hello." House hadn't realized she had already dialed Wilson's number until he heard his friend's voice.

"House?" Wilson sounded surprised.

"Cuddy wants to know if you screwed Mrs. Gerbler out of another million yet."

Cuddy grabbed the phone. She did her best to ignore House's battiness. "Did you reschedule the meeting?"

"No." Wilson felt guilty. He was hoping to get through the meeting before having to talk to Cuddy about it. "She couldn't reschedule." It might be the truth, he'd just never asked.

"Wilson! I told you to…"

House grabbed the phone back. "Remember to use a condom," he told his friend.

"Why are you calling?" Wilson was whispering, even though Cuddy couldn't overhear him.

"She's afraid you're going to run the hospital into the ground." She tried to protest but he turned away.

"Tell her everything is fine." Wilson sounded weary and none too self assured.

"Everything is fine," House told his anxious wife. "The fire inspector said the damage was minor and…"

Cuddy grabbed the phone. "Was there a fire?"

"No."

Cuddy glared at her husband who quickly vanished into the bathroom, the only place he could hide. "Don't sign anything. Gerbler is sure to have her lawyer with her, and he is slick. If he tries to make you sign anything, don't do it. Tell him you'll hold the paperwork for me when I get back."

"I know." She'd told him not to sign anything from anybody when she asked him to fill in for her last week.

"And if he brings up the dedication wall, remind him that we have already decided against that and…"

"I KNOW," he said more emphatically. She really had gone over all of this with him before she left, and left extensive notes, and a list of rules.

"Yes, but I know how you get." She knew Gerbler was going to take advantage of the fact that she was away.

"What's that mean?"

"You like giving people what they want, Wilson. It's sweet, really, but if you screw up my hospital because Mrs. Gerbler appeals to your people pleasing side, I will fire you." And she would.

"I'm not going to screw up your hospital." Wilson regretted taking the interim administrative position. He knew he would, but she'd appealed to his people pleasing side and he couldn't say no.

"Give me the phone." House reached out for the phone.

"No." Cuddy ran away. "One more thing, Wilson." She looked at the phone quizzically as it buzzed loudly in her ear. "He hung up me!" She held the phone at House for a moment before setting it back down on the counter.

"Do you blame him?" House chuckled. She was so sexy when she was in boss mode.

"I'm going to call him back…"

"No you're not." House grabbed the phone before she could and threw it out into the sand.

"HOUSE!"

"No phones." He kissed her neck, knowing she couldn't resist.

"Let's go for a walk." She pulled him toward the beach.

"What?" He felt like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on his head.

"A walk, along the beach. It'll be romantic." She smiled disarmingly.

"No." House had caught on. "You just want to go retrieve the phone so you can harass Wilson some more. I'm not going to let you." He grinned and tried to pull her back inside.

"I want to take a walk." She was holding to her guns. It would be a waste to spend two weeks in paradise and not see one inch of it.

"Not on the beach," House was also holding his guns, and his were bigger.

"Fine, we can walk the other way." There was a small rain forest just beyond the clearing. It was full of lush plants and tropical trees. Fresh bananas and ripe coconuts could be picked by anyone interested in picking them.

She linked her arm in his and let her head rest on his shoulder as they strolled slowly through the foliage. House pointed out different poisonous plants to avoid. Cuddy wasn't sure she believed him, but she wasn't going to take any chances either.

Finally they came to a clearing and stopped for a moment, to make out under the bright moonlight.

"It's a beautiful night," she said, looking into the star filled sky. She couldn't remember ever seeing this many stars in Princeton.

"It is." House was gazing up at a cluster of stars. "Can you find the southern cross?" He stood close behind her, waiting to follow her gaze as she searched the night sky.

Cuddy smiled and remembered when he tried to teach her the constellations. He had used it as an excuse to stand close to her, to brush up against her as he pointed out the different stars, to whisper their names softly in her ear. It had been collegiate foreplay, and she had fallen for it then, much as she was now.

She studied the sky carefully, then pointed at the only one she could ever remember. "That's the Big Dipper."

"I didn't ask you to find the Big Dipper," he spanked her bottom playfully. "I asked for the Southern Cross."

"It's a cross, House. Any of these stars can form a cross." She pouted. She envied how easy it was for him to learn anything. She had studied her ass off to get through college, and he claimed to have barely paid attention, yet he could drill her on anything and know the answers without double checking. It drove her nuts.

House shook his head. "Just follow a line straight from the bottom of the Big Dipper," he stretched his hand up to the sky and drew the line for her. "And there. The Southern Cross." He made a sign of the cross with his hand then lowered it to her waist. "It's not brain surgery."

"I'm not a brain surgeon. Or an astronomer." She spun around in his arms and faced him. She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.

"You'd also make a lousy pirate." He kissed her between words.

"I wouldn't want to be a pirate." She kissed him back, short, sweet, familiar kisses. Married kisses, and she loved each and every one.

"You'd be a beer wench?" House grinned approvingly. "Hot."

"I would not be a beer wench, House." She frowned at him playfully.

"Oh, don't tell me you would have been the law." House was so disappointed in her.

"I would have been a kept woman." Cuddy smiled triumphantly.

"Kept by whom?" House felt a tinge of jealousy for this imaginary man who was keeping his sexy beer wench wife.

"By the fiercest pirate to sail the seven seas." She was squeezing him tightly, which should have been a sign of who she meant, but House could be pretty dense sometimes.

"And who the hell is that?" House eyed her suspiciously.

"You, you idiot!" She kissed him deeply.

When she pulled away, he was grinning like an idiot. "Let's go to bed."

"Already?" She was wide awake.

"Definitely." House pulled her toward the villa. He had no intention of sleeping just yet.

"Look." She stopped him as soon as they stepped inside and pointed to a silver urn standing beside the bed. "Champagne." She pulled out the bottle that was nestled inside amongst a bed of ice.

"And strawberries." House smiled happily. This was going to be a good night.

"But how…"

"Relax." House sat on a nearby chair, and pulled her into his lap. "Don't think about it." He brushed her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck.

There was a fire crackling in the fireplace. Someone, probably that young Adrianna, had come and set up while they were on their walk. House didn't want to think too much about how they knew when to come, or how they got passed the locked gate, and he definitely didn't want Cuddy thinking about it.

"Would you like a strawberry?" Cuddy pulled one out of the small china bowl. It was freshly washed and the water still clung to the sweet fruit.

"Oh yeah," House said, opening his mouth for her.

Before she fed him the strawberry, she dipped it in a bowl of chocolate sauce. The chocolate dripped between them as she quickly moved the fruit to his lips.

House moaned his approval as he tasted the rich chocolate with the sweet taste of the berry. He sucked on it before biting it off the flowerets of leaves Cuddy was holding onto. He let it roll around in his mouth, enjoying the flavor of the fresh fruit. He wouldn't be surprised to find a strawberry field somewhere on the island. They felt as though they'd been picked only minutes ago.

"Your turn," he said, stretching past her to pick up a strawberry. "Close your eyes and open your mouth," he instructed gently. She did so, though she was obviously hesitant to put her trust in him so completely. He dipped a strawberry in the bowl of freshly whipped cream then slid it into her waiting mouth. He watched her suck hungrily on the fruit as he held it just beyond her bite.

Finally he let her have it, watching her mouth twist around as she chewed. Her eyes were open again, and she was watching him.

"I'll give you another." House reached over and picked up another strawberry.

"It's my turn." Cuddy protested weakly.

"Age before beauty my dear." He only disparaged himself when it suited him, and right not, it suited him just fine. "Now, close your eyes and open wide."

House bit the end off the strawberry and put it in his mouth. Holding on to it tightly in his teeth he leaned over and pushed the other end into her mouth. As she began to nibble on it, she felt his lips press against hers. She felt his tongue push into her mouth and melted into his kiss.

They ate several strawberry's this way, truly sharing each morsel before one or the other of them swallowed the remains. Cuddy pulled House's shirt down over his arms, her hands gliding over his biceps appreciatively. She had insisted he get dressed for dinner, mostly because she enjoyed undressing him after dinner.

House let her undress him. He liked feeling her hands on his body. He liked being able to just lay back and relax and let her do all the work. He liked that sometimes she took the lead, and other times he was in full control. It kept things interesting.

Cuddy straddled him and he realized she'd pinned his arms behind the chair, using the shirt to keep him immobile. "Relax," she said gently, pouring a glass of champagne.

"How can I relax? I don't trust you for a second." He didn't struggle or try to get out. He was afraid if he tried he might actually succeed. Then he'd never know what she had in store for him.

"Good." She smiled and took a sip of the champagne.

"So, evil woman, what are your intentions?" House felt his heart picking up the pace. He loved their little games.

"Why would I tell you?" She dipped her finger in the glass and circled each of his nipples with it. He gulped anxiously as she leaned down and licked the champagne off him. "Don't you just love the taste of champagne?" She asked coyly.

"Yes." House loved the taste of her, as well. "May I have some?" It wasn't begging. Not when it would lead to his getting some.

Cuddy thought about it, her pretty little head cocked to one side. "I don't think you're ready for it, Dr. House." She took another slow, seductive sip.

"I'm ready," he begged. Okay, this time it was begging, but it was begging for a good cause. That didn't count.

Cuddy smiled and twisted her body toward the table. She picked up another strawberry, and carefully dipped it into the glass. "Say please," she demanded gently.

"Please," House responded, willing to do whatever she asked.

"Good boy." She slid the strawberry across his lips, pulling it away as he tried to take a bite. "Not until I say so." She smiled devilishly and he knew he'd been beaten this time.

She slid the strawberry across his lips again, and this time House resisted the urge to bite. He wanted to bite her, but he was biding his time. He had to let her win once in a while, or she'd stop playing with him.

"Good boy." She pushed the strawberry into his mouth. "Now you can have it."

House gobbled up the strawberry as if he hadn't eaten in a week. It did taste better for the waiting, but he wasn't going to admit that.

"You look hot," Cuddy said, enjoying her power.

"I am," House purred.

"Let me cool you off then." She grinned mischievously and turned her back again.

"No!" House had a bad feeling about what was coming. "I'm fine."

"You certainly are," she ran her hand down his chest. Her soft touch was followed by a very cold ice cube. She was holding it with a napkin, so as not to freeze her own fingers, as she slid it down his chest. Each nipple got a special visit, as she circled it round and round his areola.

House shivered beneath her as the cold solid cube began to melt against his hot flesh. It burned him as it traveled across his chest and down over his stomach, but he would have killed her if she'd stopped. His body felt alive, invigorated. He wanted her more than ever, but was willing to wait, knowing the payoff would be that much greater if he let her have her way with him first.

She let the ice cube fall into his lap, to melt where it landed, and took another one, placing it in her mouth. She then leaned in to kiss him. It was a bizarre sensation as the cold cube mingled with their hot tongues. both numbed and heightened the senses at the same time.

When he could no longer take the coldness of it, he spit the ice cube out onto the floor.

"I can't believe you spit that out," she said accusingly.

"I can't believe you shoved it in my mouth," he snapped back.

"Well, if that's how you feel about it," she began to get up.

"No, no, no, no," he pleaded. "We can do the ice cube thing again if you want." He would do anything she wanted at this point.

"No, that's okay." She tried to sound blasé, but she, too, was at the point of no return. "I'm feeling a little tired anyway." She faked a stretch and yawn.

House stared her down. "You do know I can get out of this chair if I have to." It wasn't really a question. It was a threat.

Cuddy looked at him. She was in a pretty floral sundress that flowed gently down her body. It left too much to the imagination, but it was cool and comfortable. House watched as she gently slid the arms off her shoulders. Watched as the loose cotton slid down her body, as she shimmied to help it along. She hadn't been wearing anything underneath, and now stood before him, naked.

"That's more like it," he said as she knelt in front of him, running her hands up his thighs, prying his legs apart, not that it was a difficult task. He was ready for her. His pole was vaulted and ready for her to mount in any way she saw fit.

He felt a thrilling shiver rush through him as she climbed on top of him, facing him, her legs threading through the arms of the chair. He felt her warmth surround him, and the chill of the ice melted completely from his memory.

"I own you," she said triumphantly as she rode him gently.

"Yes, you do," he was in no mood, nor position, to argue. If she wanted to own him, he was willing to be hers.

"And I love you," she bend forward and kissed him, pressing her naked body tightly against his.

"Yes, you do," he said, half smirking.

"House!" She froze. She wasn't moving until he said…

"And I love you too." He kissed her lips gently.

"You better." She continued her slow, seductive grind.

"Or else what?" He should have known the answer, but there wasn't really much blood flowing toward his brain at the moment.

"Or else you will never see me naked again." She worked faster, making him cum quickly.

"We can still have sex with our clothes on," he reminded her as she climbed off him.

"Whatever you say House," she called over her shoulder, as she headed toward the bathroom.

"You're just going to leave me here?" He asked, feeling very vulnerable.

"You said you could get out of it any time you wanted." She came back into the main room. She'd changed into a pretty white satin negligee. Clearly a wedding gift from someone who thought she was still a virgin, or at least hoped she was. Probably an old aunt or something.

"True." He was just trying to decide if he wanted to.

"Well, then, prove it." She took the bottle of champagne and the two glasses and walked over to the bed. House was facing away from her, but could hear her pouring two glasses out as he quickly undid the loose knot keeping him bound.

Before she could finish pouring the second glass, he was taking it out of her hand and placing it on the bedside table. As he stretched his arm across her, to reach the table, he just happened to push her down onto her back. He took a long pull from the champagne bottle before placing it on the table beside their undrunk glasses.

He was still leaning over her, looking at her lustfully. He let his hand trail down the satin that protected her. When he reached the bottom, he began to pull that satin up. She lay their waiting for him to take her, to ravage her like a fierce and mighty pirate, so he did.


	3. Chapter 3

Things are about to take an interesting twist...

Sorry for the long delay, but I was struggling to try to make each chapter represent a different day of their honeymoon, which I successfully did for two whole chapters before it all went to hell. lol So, I'm scratching that, now that the action is starting up, and hope to have more frequent updates, though perhaps rather shorter chapters. In the meantime...enjoy.

**

* * *

**

-3-

House paced the moonlit room. Back and forth, his cane beating a gentle rhythm on the hard wood floor. Things were going too well. This couldn't possibly be his life. He looked at the bed, Cuddy lay on her back, one leg bent at the knee. One arm rested on her bare stomach while the other was slipped under the pillow beside her head. He envied her ability to practically pass out after sex. He was too keyed up to sleep.

He thought of the stories Quintessa had told them on the way down the hill to Pirate's Cove. She was impressively knowledgeable about the nefarious history of the island. She seemed to quite enjoy the stories of plunder and pillage, of treacherous sea battles and buried treasure. It was something they had in common.

According to Quintessa, Captain Morgan, of premium rum fame, had buried one of his greatest treasure on Isola. "But they say he never returned to reclaim it."

"And why didn't he?" House loved pirates. He had forced Wilson to take him to all three _Pirate's of the Caribbean_ movies. He would have gone himself, but they needed Wilson's nephew to add a sense of legitimacy to their film choice.

"No one knows." Quintessa said ominously. "To this day it remains a mystery. But there is an old map in the library. Mr. Wilde found it when he was building the bridge. He thought it was Captain Morgan's treasure map. But it is nothing more than a tattered old relic." Shortly after saying this, she thwacked him in the head with a tree branch. She claimed it was an accident, but House made Cuddy walk in front of him from then on, so he didn't get to hear any more pirate stories. Once Cuddy and Quintessa were within chatting distance it was all wedding this and wedding that. House tuned out half way through Cuddy's overly long description of the proposal.

House stared at his sleeping bride. Usually he would be quite content to watch her sleep, but he was anxious to see that map. He debated whether he should wake her or sneak off without her. In the end he opted to sneak out. He would be able to get more information without her trailing behind him asking him questions and telling him it was ridiculous to search for buried treasure.

The trek back to the Great House was a long one, but House was happy to stretch his legs. He'd been going stir crazy, pacing the Villa and waiting to wake up from his dream. He still couldn't believe he was married. It was all so surreal. And to Cuddy of all people.

He thought he'd lost her forever. He had been cocky and stupid. He hadn't promised her fidelity, but she was young, and she was naïve, and when she'd caught him in bed with Nurse Nympho, well, he never wanted to see her that hurt again.

She might have forgiven him, if he'd had the guts to face her, but he didn't and they drifted apart. When she called him, ten years later, and offered him a job… he turned her down. He couldn't bear the thought of seeing her every day, of knowing she would never take him back. It wasn't until he was completely desperate, when he couldn't find a job anywhere else, that he came crawling back to her.

House reached the top of the hill and took a moment to huff and puff as he leaned against a tree. He often wondered why she hired him. At first he thought she wanted payback, that she would make his life at PPTH a living hell, but she didn't. She was strangely gentle toward him, almost maternal. That made him think she somehow felt sorry for him. She must have heard he'd been blackballed from every major hospital in the US. She knew she was his last hope.

He'd expected her to make him beg, when he came back to ask for a job. He couldn't imagine what hoops she was going to make him jump through before agreeing to hire him. But she simply smiled and said it was going to be an honor to work with him. It was as if she'd forgotten about their past.

How could she have forgotten him so completely? Sure they hadn't been a couple for long, but he had remembered her. He made it his personal mission to remind her, every chance he got, how he had rocked her world.

"Dr. House?" Adrianna came barreling out of the bushes. "What are you doing here?" She looked guilty, but of what he couldn't quite decide.

"I was heading to the Great House." House tried to huff a little less. He didn't care how far uphill he had walked, he wasn't going to let her think he had no stamina.

"Oh, Mother will be happy to see you." Adrianna smiled and skipped off down an intersecting path.

House wondered why Quintessa would be happy to see him. His curiosity led him onward.

Quintessa was singing to herself in the front yard. House smiled when he saw the small patch of strawberry's she was tending to.

"I knew it!" He exclaimed proudly.

"What is it you knew, Dr. House?" She straightened up and wiped her hands on a small towel.

"I told Cuddy those strawberries were from the island." House felt oddly vindicated.

"If you don't mind my asking, why do you call your wife by her last name?" Quintessa enjoyed people. She liked being around them and learning about all their odd little eccentricities, and she had a feeling this couple had a gold mine full of eccentricities to explore.

"That's her name." House shrugged and plucked a strawberry out of the basket. He popped it in his mouth.

"But her name is also Lisa. Why do you not call her by that name?"

"She's always been Cuddy to me." House hadn't really ever thought about it. He had called her Lisa at some point. Surely he did when she was still in college but, Cuddy just seemed to suit her better now.

"Even when you are…you know." Quintessa made an odd little hand gesture that was meant to represent love making.

"Haven't you been listening?" His eyes twinkled at her.

"I don't know what you mean Dr. House." Was he hitting on her?

"We know you and your daughter can pop in and out of the Oasis whenever you want." He ate another strawberry to make his point less subtle. "How are we to know you don't do it when we're…you know." House made a far less obscure gesture to represent love making.

Quintessa willed herself to blush. "Dr. House! I value my position here far too greatly to jeopardize it by snooping in on Mr. Wilde's guests."

House believed her. It made him feel a bit better. "And your daughter?"

"Adria knows better." Quintessa trusted her daughter.

House realized he was getting side tracked. Cuddy was probably awake now, and pissed that he was gone. "I came to look at that map. The one Damien found here on the island."

Quintessa smiled excitedly. "I knew you would come asking about that map." She headed into the house, assuming he would follow, which he did. "But I'm afraid it is a dead end. Mr. Wilde has tried to find the treasure already, without any luck."

"No offense to Damien, but I'm much smarter than he is." House followed her through the door to the library.

It was an impressive room. Bookcases lined the walls. Even the door was hidden behind a floor to ceiling bookcase when closed. House could have spent days, weeks even, trolling through the extensive collection of dime store crime novels and mysteries. Damien appeared to have every Agatha Christie novel ever printed, and the collected works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. There were Victorian science fiction novels, Gothic horror classics, and obscure horror not even House had heard of. A large bookcase solely dedicated to historical mysteries, everything from ancient Egypt to early twentieth century was well represented.

There weren't many walls on which to put century's old pirate maps, so it wasn't hard to find the one he was looking for. It was the only one in the room.

The map was torn at the corner, and the paper was old and faded, but it was beautifully drawn by hand and with great care. "Seems a bit elaborate," House commented, staring at it.

"Oh, Dr. House, that is not the map you are wanting." Quintessa smiled as she slid open a desk drawer. "That is some phony reproduction. Mr. Wilde liked to tell stories about it to impress his guests." She pulled a small wooden box out of the drawer. "This is the map you wanted to see." She opened the box and removed a small scroll of time stained parchment.

House grabbed the scroll and unrolled it. On the surface of the paper was a roughly drawn shape with the label Isola. There was a lopsided box in the bottom left corner labeled Fort Pointless. "Fort Pointless?" That couldn't be its real name.

"It was Fort Richmond, after the Admiral who first seized the island, but the pirates apparently found it a very pointless fortification." Quintessa chuckled under her breath.

"I'm beginning to really like these pirates," House said, having already liked them, just on principle.

"There is a certain romance surrounding them, no? The rebellious spirit, the fearless drifters with no country of their own, wandering the seas, taking what they can to survive." The Parilla family was said to have descended from pirates. No one near as famous as the legendary Captain Morgan, but that didn't matter to her. It was an honor just to have the pirate blood running through her veins.

"Indeed." House liked Quintessa Parilla.

House noted the location of Pirate's Cove, the river that separated it from the rest of Isola, even the house, now called the Great House, was there, represented by a wobbly little square.

"This house was around then?" He asked the all knowing Quintessa.

"This used to be the Richmond House."

"After the guy who seized the island?"

"Yes, yes." He caught on quickly. "Archibald Richmond was a British admiral. A cruel man, he came to Isola and slaughtered the natives. Even those who begged him for mercy. He showed them none."

"People lived here?" He didn't mean to sound insensitive, he just usually couldn't help it.

"There were not many, but yes, they came from the other islands when the Europeans started taking them over. They were convinced that no one would want Isola, and they would be able to live here in peace." She sounded sad. House could understand why. It was a sad but all too common story of the history of man.

"What happened to Richmond?" As touching as that tale was, there wasn't much he could do for the long dead natives of Isola.

"One night, Captain Morgan crept into the Richmond's house and murdered him in his sleep. Several of the servants claimed to have hidden to avoid being murdered themselves, but one of them finally confessed that they had all lined the hallways and guided the fearsome pirate to the Admiral's room. And they cheered when they heard their master cry out as he was brutally killed." She was getting quite into the story, but stopped and calmed herself. "Admiral Richmond was not a liked man," she said rather matter of factly.

"Clearly." House smiled at the story. He had known plenty of Admiral Richmond's in his day. Many of whom he would have loved to murder in their sleep, and for most of them he would have had a cheering audience watching him do so.

"I…" Quintessa was stopped by the ringing of a phone. "Excuse me Dr. House." She vanished through the bookcase door.

House returned his attention to the map. There was no X marking any spot. Instead a series of lines linked roughly drawn images together.

Quintessa rejoined him, holding the phone. "It's your wife."

"Tell her I'm not here," House whispered.

"He is not here," Quintessa said into the phone. She listened carefully then looked at House. "She wants to know what you are doing here."

"I just said I'm not here," House whispered again.

Quintessa frowned at him. "But you are here, Dr. House. I am talking to you."

House gave up and grabbed the phone. "Hi Cuddy."

"Hi. What are you doing up at the house?" Cuddy didn't like waking up and finding him gone. She'd grown rather fond of having him around.

"I'm searching for buried treasure," he said excitedly. She was going to find out eventually.

"Fine, don't tell me," she sighed.

"You can join me, but don't think you're getting a share of the booty…"

"House, I'm your wife now. What's yours is all mine." She smiled into the phone, he could hear it.

House sighed heavily. "Fine, sixty-forty, but you're doing all the digging."

Cuddy took a moment to ignore him. "I am going to go take a walk up to the top of the waterfall. You can join me if you'd like." She was only saying it to be polite. She didn't imaging hiking was House's thing.

House looked at the map. There was a line that went directly to the lake at the top of that cliff. "Meet me at the bridge."

"You want to come?" It wasn't that she didn't want him around, but she could just imagine her two hour walk becoming a six hour slow crawl with a lot of complaining and probably some bickering. So much for a peaceful afternoon.

"I always want to come with you." He said with a quite pleased with himself smile.

"I'll wait for you at the bridge." She ignored the entendre. If she responded to every bit of entendre that escaped from his lips, she'd have little time for anything else. "But I'm not waiting all day House." Knowing him he'd get distracted by something on the way there and never show up.

She changed into some jeans and made her way to the bridge. She was only waiting there about five minutes when House came stumbling through the palm fronds. "I brought provisions." He smiled.

"Actually, I brought them," Adrianna said, walking up behind him with a small basket. "It is a picnic lunch."

"I can take that from here," Cuddy said, taking the basket from the nubile young girl. "Thank you." She smiled politely, hoping she didn't come across too harshly.

"You are very welcome Mrs. Dr. House. But I can carry it if you'd like…"

"I've got it," Cuddy snapped quickly. House smirked. She was adorable when she was jealous.

"Well, then, have a nice walk." Adrianna was unfazed. She turned and hurried back to the house.

"You don't like her much, do you?" House said teasingly.

"She's fine." Cuddy said dismissively.

"She certainly is," House responded with a tint of letch in his voice.

"Shut up," Cuddy shoved him then headed off toward the cliff.

"You're always telling me to shut up," House tottered along behind her.

"Because you're always talking."

"I'm not always talking. You just don't like to hear the truth."

"I'm not jealous House." She knew that's what he thought, and she was determined to prove him wrong.

"Of course not." House watched her hips sway as she walked ahead of him. She really did have no reason to be jealous, but it was fun watching her be anyway.

House filled her in on the map as they made their way along winding trails.

"If Damien didn't find the treasure, what makes you think you can?" She held a sharp branch out of the way to let him pass.

"Then you think there is a treasure?" He thought for sure she would have laughed the whole thing off.

"No."

"Well you're wrong, as usual."

"I am sure numerous treasures were buried here at one time or another House, but I'm pretty sure they have all been found by now."

"Pretty sure…not positive." House was oddly optimistic about this.

"House, you're not the first person to try following this stupid map." She took it out of his hands and looked at it. "There's not even an X."

"Nope." House seemed oddly proud of himself.

"How can it be a treasure map without an X?" She handed it back to him.

"Now you see why the treasure hasn't been discovered in 300 years?" This was his boyhood dream, discovering a pirate's booty. He used to dig up the back yard of every military sanctioned house his parents had moved him to. He'd never found more than a few broken toys or dead pets, and he'd gotten into more trouble than any of his discoveries were worth, but he had never given up hope.

"If you say so." She sighed and kept walking. Let him have his fun. She knew he needed to channel his energy somewhere. He needed a puzzle, at all times, to keep his mind busy. She wasn't sure what he was always running away from in that brain of his, but she would always help him in any way she could.

"You're lost," House announced, stopping the trek to lean against a tree.

"If I am, then so are you." Cuddy gladly put down the basket and took a long drink of water.

"Am not." He'd been following her. It wasn't like his map was to scale or even accurate.

"Then where are we House?" She handed the water bottle to her huffing and puffing husband.

House pulled out his treasure map, as if that was going to help. "We're…" he looked at the map, then around him at the thick trees. Then he pointed at the map. "…here." He was as surprised as she was that he'd found their location.

Cuddy shook her head and rolled her eyes. "You just made that up."

"Did not." He was insulted. "The trees are getting denser, and this little bunch of squiggly lines, they're clearly meant to represent a little forest."

"Brilliant deduction Sherlock. So, which way to do we go to get out of the bunch of squiggly lines?" She was getting hungry, and wanted to settle down and eat by the lakeside, if they ever found it.

"This way!" House pointed randomly then began to tread with purpose in that direction. Cuddy, having no other valid options, followed him.

"Ever make love in a forest?" House asked, feeling quite confident that he was on the right path.

"Yes."

"Really?" She'd never mentioned this to him.

"Twice, I think." She was thinking about it. Glen Godfrey…yeah, it was definitely twice. She grinned.

"You're a whore!" House was appalled that his wife had forest sex without him.

She hit him hard in the forearm.

"Ouch! Spousal abuse, spousal abuse," he called out into the silence.

Cuddy rolled her eyes again. "I will abuse you if you don't get moving." She shoved him.

"Is that a promise?" He stood his ground.

"Do I have to give you a blow job to get you to move?"

"It certainly wouldn't hurt." Things were definitely looking up.

"And it's certainly not going to happen." She brushed past him and kept walking. "I'll swing by and check on you on the way back." She gave a little wave over her shoulder as she hurried forward.

House waited. She was going to turn and come back. He waited. She was going to drop that basket and jump him. He waited until she was almost out of sight then hurried off after her. "I can't believe you were going to leave me alone in the woods."

"I can't believe you thought I would go down on you in the woods."

"Why not? You've done it almost everywhere else."

"You ass!" She walked faster.

"You love my ass," he hurried off behind her.

It was another twenty minutes before they found their way out of the woods. The journey became easier when they started to hear the distant rumblings of the falls. Following the sound as it grew louder and louder, they made their way to the waters edge. It was not at all what either of them had expected.

The lake sat silent and still, like liquid glass. It was such a deep, rich blue that Cuddy thought it couldn't possibly be real. A high ridge lined the far side of the lake. Based on the map he was carrying, House deducted that beyond that ridge was nothing but ocean.

"It looks like a giant crater." House was the first to speak and disrupt the tranquil beauty of the place.

Cuddy nodded and pulled out her camera. She knew that photos wouldn't do the place justice, but she wanted some just the same.

"Want one of me?" House hammed his way into frame.

"No." She shooed him off with her arm.

"Well," he humphed as he picked up the basket and placed it on a nice flat bit of land, perfect for a picnic. "Hope Chef Pierre made us something good."

"I'm sure he did," she said, having forgotten how hungry she was in the presence of such sublime beauty.

"Oh no he didn't!" House's face lit up.

"What?" Cuddy took one quick candid shot of House laying out the picnic goodies then sat down.

"This is jerk chicken!" House put three pieces on his plate and the last small, sad little piece on Cuddy's. "And a fresh, handmade mango salsa." He put a huge scoop on his plate and a little dropping on Cuddy's. "And pineapple chutney."

"Hungry?" Cuddy looked at his full plate with a smirk.

"Ravenous." House took a huge bite out of the chicken and was forced to talk with his mouth full. "You ever have jerk chicken?" It didn't really seem like her kind of food.

"I don't think so." Cuddy took one of the pieces from his plate and put it on hers. "But it smells great."

"Oh, it is." House watched with a frown. What did she think she was doing?

"You have got to try it with some of the special sauce." House made sure to pour a heavy dose of the spicy sauce onto the chicken she had stolen from him.

Cuddy groaned. "Fine, take it." She pushed it off her plate and back onto his.

"You don't trust me?" He asked pointlessly.

"Not since I met your twin brother Steve." Their first encounter hadn't gone entirely well, so when they met again, House introduced himself as Steve, and apologized for his barbaric brothers behavior at the party the other night. He hadn't anticipated that she had done her research on him and knew Gregory John House was an only child.

House tried to scrape some of the hot sauce off before it got too ingrained in the tender meat. It would have been great to see her face when she bit into the extra hot sauced chicken, but he was happy just getting his third piece back.

"Is this really how you want to spend your honeymoon? Searching futily for a buried treasure?" She had finished as much as she could eat and lay down in the grass, resting on her elbows as she watched him finish his abundant meal.

"My god woman!" House looked as offended as his acting skills would allow. "I can't have sex with you ALL the time."

Cuddy tried not to laugh. "Believe me, I've noticed."

House glared at her. "Maybe you're just not stimulating me enough," he said in his own defense.

"Most of the men I've been with…"

"And how many have their been?" He knew of at least half a dozen, but surely there had been more.

"I don't count them," she exclaimed, leaving out that there might be too many to count.

"Can't count that high?" He retorted quickly, putting the last of the chicken bones in the trash bag Quintessa had so thoughtfully provided for them.

"How many women have you been with?"

"Hookers included?" He asked laying down on his side beside her.

"Okay, hookers included." It's not like that would up his score much. As far as she knew he kept going to the same one.

House counted in his head, slowly, enjoying the memory of about half of them, cringing at the memory of a few, and blanking on a couple names. "Eight."

"That's all?" Cuddy was surprised.

"Yes, that's all."

Cuddy did her best House impression, staring at him for a moment before asking, "why are you lying?"

"I'm not lying." He knew it was a low score, but he was going for quality, not quantity. He wondered if she'd buy that.

"You've only been with eight women?" She knew he'd been with her, Stacy, at least one hooker, Nurse Nympho back in Michigan, that blonde gynecologist at the convention in San Jose… it was hard to believe he'd only been with three other women in the ten year gap between college and Stacy.

"Sorry I'm not a slut." He didn't have to say she was, he was implying it with all his might.

"No, you're a prude," she chuckled, taunting him.

"I am not a prude," he protested, sliding one hand along her denim covered thigh.

"Care to prove it?" She was challenging him. She took his hand and slid it up under her shirt.

"Do I care to prove it…" he scoffed. "You better believe I care to prove it." With one sweeping movement he had her on her back, hovering over her as his hand pushed the loose shirt up over her warn skin.

"This ought to be interesting," she said mockingly.

"Oh, it's gonna be." House bent down and kissed her stomach.

"More interesting than your little treasure hunt?" She teased.

"Mmmmmaybe." He tried to tease her back, but it was a bad move.

Cuddy pulled her shirt back down right as House was about to maneuver his way into her bra. "We'd better go find that treasure, before Black Beard comes and steals your booty." She pulled herself to her feet and dusted off her jeans.

"There's only one booty I'm interested in right now." He reached out for it, and, catching his finger in a belt loop, pulled it back down beside him.

"You always say the nicest things," she breathed between kisses.

House pulled her shirt back up and started drawing lines with his finger. "Each line on the map is a different color."

Cuddy shot up, about to protest, but he pushed her back down. "Keep still, I'm thinking."

"You're tickling me," she said laughing as he drew a line down her side.

"Now, if we follow this trail…" he let his fingers walk down the center valley of her stomach. "We reach…"

"An impenetrable fortress," she said as his fingers stopped at the waistband of her jeans.

"Your pants are hardly impenetrable." He knew her much better than that. "It's just a matter of finding the right way to get in them."

"You think you know the way to get in my pants?" She asked, knowing the answer was a loud and resounding yes.

"Of course. First I remove the obstacle in front of me…" His little hiking fingers jumped up and unbuttoned the one silver button.

"But you have only run up against another obstacle." She felt his hand grip the pull of her zipper. "Now what?"

"Now…" he had been studying the map as he spoke. This wasn't just foreplay. He really was trying to unlock the secrets of the map. "we slowly push our way against the current…" a river? Could there be a river somewhere that he needed to go down?

"He looked at the map. There were several blue lines. One was clearly the river that separated the Oasis with the main island. Another seemed to wind its way along the ridge to the lake they were now fooling around beside. But there was a third that he didn't remember seeing on their hike. He should have. As a matter of fact, it should have been right under them at one point.

"It's underground!" House had an epiphany.

"What's underground?" Cuddy groaned, realizing she might be going home very dissatisfied.

House slowly peeled off her pants. "There's a hidden river, under the island. "His hands ran down her legs, separating them as much as the tight denim that now pooled just beneath her knees would allow. "It runs deep inside Isola." He let his fingers slip down along the deep chasm between her legs. "It's where we will find our X." He sunk his fingers gently inside her and felt her respond as she always did.

"This river…how do we find it?" She asked as he worked his magic.

That was the part House hadn't quite figured out yet. "Shhhh," he said, slipping his tongue between her legs. He found that keeping himself busy helped him think, and he couldn't think of anything he'd rather be doing than going down on his beautiful wife in a beautiful field beside a beautiful lake with the pounding sound of a great waterfall in the distance…."Thhh wafull," he said as he regained custody of his tongue.

"What?" Cuddy took his hand and put it back in place. He was not getting away with leaving her half finished.

"The waterfall! It's under the waterfall!" House was excited, elated, and his enthusiasm spilled into his current activity. With renewed energy he went down on her again, this time giving her his full attention. His hands cupped her perfect buttocks and thrust her closer to him. Her legs, trapped in the constricting jeans, didn't give him much room to navigate, but he found the challenge exciting as he had to push his way into the dark cave of her thighs.

As soon as he felt the tremors of relief flow out of her, he pulled himself up and gathered the map. "We've got to go back to the grotto."

"Thanks, it was good for me too," she snotted, zipping her jeans back up.

"Oh, sorry," House held out his hand and helped her to her feet. "I will make it up to you, I promise."

"No you won't." She knew him better than that. He'd forget and think he'd just rocked her world, and would expect her to return the favor tonight.

"You're right. Let's go."

The walk back wasn't nearly as long. For one thing, they didn't get lost this time, as House had his face buried deep in his map, which proved more accurate than originally suspected. Second, he knew he was right. They were on their way to find a buried treasure, or maybe just a hidden one. It didn't have to be buried. Maybe that's where the other hunters had gone wrong. Maybe it was hanging from a stalactite or hidden under a rock. No, scratch the rock thing. He didn't want a treasure small enough to be hidden under a rock.

"House?" She tapped him on the shoulder. "Which way?" They had come to a fork in the worn trail. They couldn't keep going forward as there was a huge banana tree in their direct path. To the left was a clear path made of warn dirt and broken branches. To the right was a less clear path of patted down leaves and bent branches. She knew which way she'd go.

"To the right, obviously." And she knew which way he'd go. Luckily they both wanted to go the same way.


	4. Chapter 3 Cont

Okay, so technically this is going to be an addition to chapter three, since I didn't have as much of that day left as I thought. There was a bit of a change in plans.

* * *

**-3.1-**

House pushed aside a large, green leaf and stopped short, shooting his cane out beside him to prevent Cuddy from falling off the large cliff that loomed before them.

"That wasn't here last time," he said, putting down his cane now that he was certain he wasn't about to be widowed.

"No, House, WE weren't here last time." Cuddy shook her head and took the map. "Are you sure this is a map of THIS island?" She looked at the child like scribblings and wondered how she'd let House talk her into this.

"Look." House pointed out a big blue splotch. "That is the lake." He slid his finger over a stretch of blue to a big green blob. "And that is the Oasis."

"And where are we?" She looked at him with annoyance.

"You're about to be at the bottom of this cliff if you don't stop giving me attitude." He wasn't in the mood. He was hot and sweaty and tired.

She sighed heavily, turned the map a few times, holding it up to the cliff face on the off chance that there was any accuracy to it whatsoever, then rolled it back up again. "We just have to follow the edge of the cliff this way." She shot out her left arm. "That should lead us to the bridge."

"You sure?" He really wanted to take a shower.

"Yes. That's the Oasis out there." She pointed to a little dot of land just around a curve in the cliff.

"Oh, so it is." He trodded off in the direction she was pointing without further comment.

Twenty long, silent minutes later they were home.

"Are you going to talk to me now?" Cuddy asked as she pulled out some bottles of water and slipped them into his backpack.

House shook his head. He should have been the one to notice that the Oasis was just around the corner and it was somehow her fault that he didn't. He didn't know how it was her fault, but he'd think of something.

"Good." Cuddy went about packing some snacks. She had a feeling this little trek was going to take longer than they planned.

House whistled annoyingly as he changed into his swim trunks. "Put this in the bag," he said, shoving his shirt at her.

"Oh, you are talking to me now," she said with amusement as she refolded his shirt neatly and found a spot for it in the bag.

"No. I'm ordering you," he snapped.

"There's a difference with you?" She went into the other room to change and came back out in her bikini. She wrapped the matching sarong around her waist and packed a light sweater. It had been cool in that cave and she imagined that it would get cooler the further in they went.

"Did you pack a flashlight?" House asked, looking in some drawers for anything they'd forgotten.

Cuddy thought about it for a moment. She could say yes, and he'd go on being pissy or…"Oh, do you think we'll need one?" It was hard for her not to smile when she said it. She'd never be a great actress.

"You could have just said yes," he sighed.

"Are you still not talking to me?" She asked, walking over to him, ready to make up.

"Nope," he said as he bent down to kiss her.

"We're not going to make it to the cave tonight if we don't start now." She did not sound the least bit disappointed.

"I know," he said, walking her backwards toward the bed.

House pulled at the knot that held her bikini top on, his long fingers fumbling clumsily with the slick fabric. He felt her hands slipping into the elastic of his board shorts. He knew they looked ridiculous on a man his age, but they were the only bath trunks he could find that covered his scars completely.

As she crouched down before him, lowering his shorts to his ankles, he took advantage of her position to finally untangle the knot. When she rose back up to her feet, she was topless and he was just plain naked.

"Not fair," he said, pulling at the string of her bikini bottoms.

"Life's not fair House, you taught me that." She turned him around and pushed him onto the bed.

He watched with wide eyes as she carefully pulled first one side of the string bikini open, then the other. His smile widened as the small triangle of material dropped to the floor exposing the last bit of flesh she had hidden.

He would never grow tired of seeing her naked. The woman had a smoking body for someone her age, which he refused to believe was hypocritical just because he was eight years older and not nearly as well kept.

House had adjusted himself so that he was lying properly on the bed. He had his hands resting under his head, propping the massive orb at an angle so he could better watch what she was doing.

What she was doing was slowly climbing up the bed. He felt a little flutter as her wrist brushed against his calf. He watched her move, like a cat, slow and methodically stalking it's prey. Her eyes were on his. She didn't need to look at his body. She'd seen it enough times to know where all the good bits were. Instead, she was staring straight into him.

"Isn't this better than tromping through some dark, dank cave?" She kissed his thigh gently and he rose a little higher to attention.

"Depends on what you've got planned." Who was he kidding? This was much better than cave tromping, though he fully planned on doing that tomorrow. She might have distracted him for the moment, but she hadn't gotten him to give up his quest forever.

"Well, first, I'm going to make sure you've got the goods," she slid one hand up between his legs, her fingers slowly playing along his flesh until she could go no further. That was when she slid one finger, touching him oh so tauntingly up along the underside of his shaft.

House shivered with pleasure. The temptation to grab her was tempered by the curiosity to see what she'd do next. "I believe you will find I am more than adequately good." He was finding it hard to be his usual snarky self as all the blood in his body made a mass exodus to his nether region.

"Just good?" She looked disappointed.

"Take it out for a spin and see for yourself," he offered.

"Perhaps," she replied coyly, continuing her cat like ascent of his prostrate body.

"Perhaps? No, not perhaps! Definitely, de…" he felt her finger press against his lips as she shushed him.

"You just lay there and relax." She was straddling him, still on all fours, but clearly in the proper location for mounting. He waited…well, he tried to. Really he did. Gave it his best effort and everything, but she was just so naked, and just so close and, well, he was only a man.

"Stop teasing me and get on with it!" He grabbed her hips and pulled her down on top of him. Their bodies met with a thud. It hurt a little, but House was too distracted to feel the pain.

"Get on with it?" She pulled herself up as much as his tight grip would allow. "That's romantic."

"We're married now. I don't have to be romantic anymore." His hands slipped down over her ass, giving each cheek an appreciative squeeze.

"Anymore?" She was shocked. "When were you ever romantic?" She was mostly teasing, but House really wasn't know for his touch of romance.

"I proposed to you didn't I?" His hands reached for his penis and prepared it for insertion.

"With stolen hospital supplies. Not exactly what I'd call romantic." She lifted enough of her weight off of him to make his task easier. She closed her eyes as she felt him slowly sink into her.

"Maybe not, but I should get points for creativity." He grinned.

"I'll give you points for creativity," she said blissfully. She felt his body shifting around beneath her. He usually just laid there and let her do all the work, so this was a nice change.

"There was that time I brought you flowers. That was romantic," he was still trying to prove his point, even as the friction from their bodies made it hard to think straight.

"That was almost twenty years ago." Her body convulsed with laughter just a little and House enjoyed the feel of it as he held her tightly against him.

"It still counts." Her head was nuzzling his neck and he was talking into her hair, but that didn't seem to bother him. He continued his slow, rhythmic hip movement. It was hardly even noticeable, but it was enough to stir her into a frenzy if he did it long enough, or so that book of hers said.

Cuddy was starting to feel the effects of his efforts. She felt warm, and happy. It wasn't their usual firey heat, but it had her heart racing faster and faster, and that light sheen was starting to set her body aglow.

"Something wrong?" House teased. "You look flushed?" He was putting out little effort, and though he was definitely feeling something, this move was meant for her. According to the book it was sure to elicit an orgasm in the female long before the male felt the need to erupt.

"I'm fine," she said, trying to stay composed as she pulled herself up a bit to look at him.

"Yes, yes you are." His hands were slowly navigating her body. It was a fine, hot, sticky, sensual body and he loved every inch of it.

"Where did you…learn to do…" she didn't bother finished. Surely he knew what she meant.

"I was born with this knowledge," he boasted.

"Uhhuh," she said breathlessly.

"The beauty is, I can take as long as I want…"

"NOW!" She demanded. He was slowly building her up into a frenzy and she needed to be released.

"Now what?" He teased, enjoying himself thoroughly.

"Orgasm…now…" she needed it.

"I'm not ready," he said casually.

She grabbed the hair at the nape of his neck. "I will make you pay," she said as she began to thrust herself on top of him.

"Oh really?" House couldn't wait, but he wasn't ready to end his fun just yet. With the grace of a gazelle he flung her onto her back and climbed aboard.

The wind was knocked out of her for a split second so she didn't have time to protest or threaten him before his mouth was securely planted on hers.

He still couldn't decide if he liked her on top of him or underneath him. Clearly years of further research were required.

"Make me cum," she demanded, feeling a deep, aching longing for him.

"I'll see what I can do," he said far more relaxed than he actually felt. He was a little nervous. What if he couldn't deliver? She'd kill him.

"Don't see…DO!" She wanted him badly. She wanted to feel him inside her, thrusting and throbbing and fighting his way deeper and deeper. She wanted to be pillaged and plundered like one of his pirates.

House slipped his finger inside of her which was clearly not enough.

"HOUSE!" She screamed in frustration.

"What?" He looked down at her with a smile.

"If you don't take me now I will kill you." She was talking through clenched teeth.

"Geez, I know I'm good and all…"

She had wrapped her legs around him tightly. She would have used her arms, but he had them pinned down over her head. She cursed his strength as she tried to break free with absolutely no success.

"Let me go!" she demanded, squirming about beneath him.

"Not a chance," he still hadn't penetrated her, instead choosing to torture her with gentle stroking.

"I'll be good, I promise," she had to change her tactics. Threats weren't working.

"You threatened to kill me," House almost let a finger slip inside her, but preferred to tease her and pulled it back.

"GRRRRRRR" she felt the throbbing ache between her legs. She was passed the point of no return.

"Well, if you insist," House couldn't resist any longer. She was just so beautiful when she was angry.

He grabbed himself sturdily and felt the hot wetness engulf him as he sunk down on into her. He made the mistake, in the heat of the moment, of letting her hands go. He felt them grab his ass with force, almost what one might call a spanking force as she pulled him deeper into her.

The explosion happened moments later, and it hadn't come from him. "YES!" He exclaimed only a split second after her. Like a woman possessed, she kept going, her hips pushing up against his harder and harder. She wanted to make him cum…or did she.

House was just about to let go of his sweet juices when Cuddy pushed him off of her. "That is for torturing me." He felt the sticky liquid drip down his thigh in bitter disappointment.

"You bitch!" He didn't really mean it. He knew he deserved it, and he knew he'd get her back for it.

She was at a disadvantage because she was too weak to get up. She knew, as soon as she looked in his eyes that he wasn't going to give up that easily. "Don't…"

"Don't what?" He said innocently, his hand sweeping along her dripping body.

"I'm tired."

"I'm horny."

"You're always horny."

"I know." He climbed back on top of her, prepared against her pushing him off again. She tried, and failed. He had grabbed hold of her before she could get any strength behind her push. "And you owe me." He leaned down and kissed her chest succulently.

"I owe you nothing." She said defiantly.

"You're my wife. It is your wifely duty to see to my needs."

"You're needs have been adequately met." He got off, what more did he want.

"It is also your wifely duty to accept my seed when I am in the mood to plant it." Even he found that a bit distasteful, but it was already out there.

"Excuse me?" Cuddy pushed him up enough to look him in the eye.

"No pushing me away when I'm about to cum." He hoped that was clear enough for her.

"No tormenting me with delayed orgasms."

"Oh, I can't promise that." He loved to torture her.

She managed to glare at him even as he was pushing his way back inside her.

The glare faded away when, two minutes later, they were laying breathlessly side by side.

"I'm impressed," she really didn't think he had the stamina to go two times back to back.

"I'm impressive," he boasted.

"You're impossible." She shoved him in the chest, but let her hand stay there as she snuggled up beside him.

"Lucky for me you love a challenge." He smiled as he stared at the ceiling. He really didn't deserve her. Lucky for him she wasn't smart enough to figure that out. He kissed her head gently then willed himself to sleep.


	5. Chapter 4

**Clark-G** I thought about what you said, and read back and realized, with the help of my beloved Mixy, that House has been acting a little too happy for a guy with chronic pain, sooooooo, this chap is for you my darling. Hope you like it.

**iamawallflower**, you may be late to the party, but I'm glad you made it. Sit back, have a Mai Tai and enjoy.

**HuddySmutMonkey...**oh, you smutty little thing, what am I going to do with you? Well, I might have one or two things in my library to suit your twisted little desires. I'll see what I can do. :) In the meantime, enjoy some hardcore angst.

* * *

**-4-**

House woke up in a cold sweat. His breath was heavy and labored. He could hear them talking, conspiring against him. Whispered voices carried across the room. They thought he was still sleeping. They thought it was safe. He closed his eyes to maintain the illusion and also to focus on their words.

"We'll do it while he's asleep. He won't even notice."

Do what? What were they going to do to him? His heart was pounding. He was beginning to panic.

He heard the threatening buzz of the saw, a sound that sent a chill down his spine. He tried to scream, to tell them to stop, but he couldn't get his mouth working. He tried to grab the saw, to save himself, but his arms were heavy and numb. He couldn't move, he couldn't speak, he was their prisoner, about to be tortured in a way that would break the strongest of men.

But they couldn't break him. He refused to let them. As the cold steel blade began to rip into his numb flesh, he fought to break free, to be heard. He struggled against the restraints holding him down. He focused his power and will and sent it all to his left arm. If he could only get one arm to move, to push them away, then maybe, just maybe he could save himself…

House woke with a gasp as his arm shot out beside him and accidentally hit Cuddy in the chest.

"Well, good morning to you too," she mumbled, still half asleep.

"I didn't know you were there." It was taking him some time to process the fact that he'd been dreaming.

"Where else would I be?" She sat up, pulling the sheet up over her naked body.

He thought quickly. "Bathroom?"

She laughed and kissed him on the cheek. "Do you want me to make you some eggs?"

"No." He was still trying to process that dream.

"Good." She hadn't wanted to get up yet anyway. "I'm going back to sleep."

"No you're not." House pulled the covers off her.

"House," She whined, pulling them back up again and curling into a fetal position.

"Don't you remember what today is?" He wanted to set out on their exploration as soon as possible.

"The first day of the rest of my death sentence?" She turned onto her back and looked up at him with one eye open.

"That's encouraging," House grumbled.

"It was a joke." He was acting odd this morning. "Are you sure you don't want anything to eat?"

"Yeah," he said dismissively. "Go back to sleep."

Cuddy did as she was told, but only because she wanted to.

House put on his swim trunks and headed down the beach. He had swallowed a handful of Vicodin, but the pain in his leg was getting worse. He winced and stopped for a moment.

The past couple of days had been Heaven. The crisp ocean air, the passionate nights (and days) in Cuddy's arms. He had started to believe he was invincible. He had started to believe he could live a normal life, but he'd only been fooling himself.

He screamed out in pain as he fell to the ground.

Cuddy had become so attuned to the sound of his pain that she shot up in bed and looked around. When she didn't immediately see him, she thought she'd dreamt it. Then she heard him cry out again, and rushed down to the beach.

"House? Are you all right?" She lifted his head into her lap and gently rubbed his temples, hoping to somehow ease the pain.

House was clenching his fists and felt his nails digging deeper and deeper into his palms. He was close to drawing blood, but he didn't ease up. He was really only distributing the pain, but it was better than nothing.

Through clenched teeth he hissed "Leave me alone." He hated her seeing him like this, vulnerable and weak. He hated that it reminded him that she played a part in his pain. At that particular moment, he hated her.

Cuddy had learned after countless mistakes that he meant those words. He wasn't the kind of man who said he wanted to be left alone when he really wanted a hug but was too macho to ask for it. She hated men like that. She was much more comfortable with House's cruel honesty, even if it broke her heart every time.

She gently kissed him on the temple. She knew he would hate it, but she had to. It was a selfish act on her part, done to make her feel better, to ease her own guilty conscious, but she had to do it. He would get over it. He always did.

She got up and walked away slowly. She wanted him to call her back to him, to ask for her help, but she knew it wouldn't happen. She just wished he'd let her in.

She thought maybe, just maybe it would be different once they were married, that he would realize that his pain wasn't going to push her away, and maybe, in time, he would, but it was still too soon, still too new.

House pulled himself to his feet. He looked down at his hand. There were deep moon shaped lines drawn across it, but no blood. Part of him wished there was. At least it would be evidence of his pain.

The only good thing about his scar was that it was a physical symbol of his pain. Not so much a badge of honor as a painful reminder of how pointlessly cruel life was.

He took a deep breath before taking his first step toward the Villa. He felt his cane sink into the sand and cursed under his breath. Each step after that was calculated agony. He winced each time he had to strain his muscle to make his leg move another inch closer to his destination. She was making a point not to watch him. He should have been grateful for that, but he was in too much pain to feel any sort of gratitude. After all she had done this to him.

Cuddy kept her head down, studying her Cheerios with deep concentration. She'd set a bowl out for him, and left the box of cereal and milk out, just in case.

House sat down and poured out the cereal in silence. He knew if he opened his mouth he would ruin everything. He could feel her unasked questions, grilling him about how he felt. The more he thought about what she wasn't asking, the more angry he became.

And there was one question hanging in the air between them, one question mocking him and laughing at his weakness. He felt almost compelled to address it, but that would mean acknowledging it, and acknowledging it would be admitting failure.

The answer was clear to both of them, though neither dared speak it. They were not going to the cave. The cave that House had been more excited about than Cuddy had ever seen him. The cave that possibly head the riches that could buy them their own tropical paradise. Once again, his deficiency had ruined everything.

Cuddy looked up for just a moment, as though she was about to speak, then looked down again. She pushed the few remaining circles of oats around with her spoon.

"Go ahead and ask me," he finally demanded with a cruel edge to his voice that frightened her ever so slightly.

"Ask you what House?" She didn't dare ask the million questions on her mind. How was he? Did he blame her? Was he going to take too many pills?

"Do you know what today is?" He snarled menacingly.

"You want me to ask you what today is?" She was playing dumb because she didn't want to deal with the truth.

"I want you to ask me if I still want to go to the damned cave today!" He was screaming at her.

"I never wanted to go in the first place," she said cautiously.

"Well then, you got your wish!" He slammed his spoon into his bowl causing an eruption of milk to spill across the table as he stormed off.

Cuddy looked at the bowl and sighed. Why did he have to find that stupid map?

She cried as she cleaned up the mess. Not a loud sobbing cry, but the soft, gentle tears of a woman unable to help the man she loved. If only he'd let her help him.

House dialed Wilson's number and waited while his friend went to check the caller ID on his mobile.

"House, why are you calling me again?"

"Can you FedEx me a refill of Vicodin?"

"No! House, you brought more than enough to get you through your vacation."

"Something's come up." House was pounding his fist against his leg, trying to distract him from the constant, relentless pain.

"What?" Wilson was worried. Wilson was always worried, but this time he had reason to be.

House didn't want to tell him. He didn't want to admit that he couldn't keep up with his wife. Cuddy was an active woman. She played tennis and golf and went to the gym and went running. Those were all things he would love to do with her. He just couldn't, and he hated being told he couldn't do something, especially when he was the one doing the telling. "I pulled a muscle," he lied feebly.

"Really?" Wilson was just that gullible. "How?"

"Wild monkey sex," House said impatiently. "Now are you going to send me the refills or am I going to have to stop some Cuban drug smuggling ship and ask if they have any they could spare?"

"You should have it tomorrow." Wilson was incapable of telling his friend no. He knew if he did, House would leave him for someone more agreeable.

"Great," House said unenthusiastically and hung up.

Cuddy was standing in the doorway, leaning against it, watching him. "Was that Wilson?"

"Yes." House felt a small ripple of guilt flash over him, but it passed.

"Is he sending you more pills?" She sounded so disappointed in him. If she knew…if she had any idea of the pain he had to deal with…

"Yeah." House was sitting on the toilet, not the best place to feel self righteous, but the only place he could find privacy. "I told you I was going to need more Vicodin."

"Yes, you did." She walk over to him and leaned against the side of the sink. "I was going to go up and check on Quintessa, thank her for all she's been doing for us. Is that okay?" She didn't want to leave him but she knew he probably wanted to be alone for a little while. He usually did after an episode.

"Fine." House's tone was dismissive but he appreciated how well she understood him. Sometimes she fucked it up royally, but sometimes, like now, she knew exactly what he needed.

She turned to leave and he grabbed her hand. He looked at her for a moment, mouth open, trying to find the words to tell her how he felt. The words never made it out and he closed his mouth and let her go. He could see the tears welling in her eyes and knew he should do something to ease her pain, the way she tried to ease his, but she had failed to ease his pain and he had failed to try to ease hers.

Cuddy started sobbing almost immediately after crossing the bridge, when she was far enough away that there was no way he would see her. She stopped and fell to the ground beside an old tree, curling up and crying into her knees.

He wouldn't let her help him. She would do anything for him, and he knew that, he had to know that, but he wouldn't let her in. She'd like to believe it was to protect her from his pain, but she knew him better than that. He was a stubborn ass who didn't think anyone could help him.

She screamed and threw her fists into the ground stomping her feet. All she wanted to do was spend two weeks being happy with him, but like most things in her life, it had all blown up in her face.

House sat on the toilet seat staring at the place where she had been standing wondering why he had to ruin every good thing that ever happened to him. He threw the phone across the room and watched it fall apart against the wall. "Great, now I need to get a new cell phone," he said to the empty room as he pulled himself to his feet.

The well stocked kitchen offered plenty of selection upon with to drink himself into oblivion. He chose vodka. It was quick, cheap and tasteless.

He grabbed the vodka bottle by the neck and fumbled his way across the room to the grand piano. Music was his therapy and Chopin his therapist. The notes came flooding out of him, easing his pain in a way no pill ever could.

By the time Cuddy returned, House was passed out on the floor, the empty vodka bottle smashed to pieces at his feet, a deep cut from the shattered glass marred his ankle and there was a line of drool coming out of his open mouth.

Cuddy looked at him sadly for a moment. She wished she could understand his pain. She wished she could share it, make it easier for him to bear. Instead she was left to pick up the pieces every time he self destructed.

She carefully picked up all the pieces of glass and swept them into the trash before waking him. He had a tendency to jerk around when he was woken from a drunken stupor and she didn't want him cutting himself any more than he had.

Next she dressed his wound from the small first aid kit she found in the bathroom. There were several small cuts that looked worse than they really were. She wiped up the blood and put a large bandage over the area.

Now came the hard part. "House?" She whispered into his ear first, testing the waters. He gave no sign of life so she tried to shake him gently.

House grumbled wordlessly and threw up a little. Cuddy turned him onto his side and wiped up the vomit that rolled down his cheek. "House, you have to wake up," she informed him, holding his arms down to prevent getting hit.

"Ivatigobid," House explained.

"I have no idea what you just said." She used her entire body to push him into a sitting position. "But you need to get up and move around."

"Nogep. Stedow…gedow…" he grinned. "Gooooodowwww," and nodded his head like he was in a bad 70s movie.

"Yes, House, maybe later. Right now I need you to get up and walk this off." She slipped under his arm and hoisted him to his feet. "I know you don't want to, but I'm evil and I want to make you miserable, so move." She shouted in his ear a bit, just to jolt him to full consciousness.

House started to drag his drunk ass alongside her, holding tightly to her shoulders lest he fall down and go boom. "I love you Lisa." He was still drunk enough to admit it.

"I love you too Greg." She smiled to herself. Sure he was wasted out of his mind, but she knew that deep down he did mean it.

She walked him back and forth through the large open room, from the kitchen counter to the steps to the beach and back again, over and over. She could feel his body slowly gaining control of itself. He was becoming less and less dependent on her to hold him up.

"Do you ever hate me?" He asked her suddenly and with such earnestness she couldn't tell if he was asking or if it was the vodka.

"How can you ask me that?" And how could she possibly answer?

"Because I'm an ass."

"I don't hate you House."

"I'm not asking if you hate me right now. I'm asking if you have ever hated me."

"No." She meant it.

"With all the horrible things I've done to you. You've never once thought about giving up on me?" He didn't believe her.

"No." She still meant it.

"Why?" His voice cracked with disbelief.

"Why don't I hate you?" She was starting to think she could hate him.

"Why haven't you given up on me?" There have been many times when he's wanted to give up on himself, but she always showed up and pulled him back together again. She was the reason he was still alive. Some might say he owed her his life. He felt she owed him his leg. Neither of them was going to get repaid.

"Because I love you." She was starting to tear up. It had been an emotional day and she was already exhausted.

"What kind of answer is that?" He pushed her away then realized he was going to fall on his ass and threw his arms back around her.

"The truthful kind." She knew he was drunk, that he wasn't thinking straight, but these questions unnerved her, mainly because she didn't really know the answer.

She loved him. She couldn't give a detailed thesis on why. She just did. And she didn't give up on the people she loved. He had been horrible to her after the Infarction, but she always understood where his anger was coming from and always hoped it would pass. She just realized that she'd rather live in misery with him than spend the rest of her life without him.

"You're an idiot." He dismissed her heart felt answer because it was something he couldn't understand. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't wrap his considerable brain around the idea of thick and thin, of better and worse. It's not that he wouldn't stay with her through any of those scenarios, it's just that he thought she was worthy of staying with, and he thought he was not.

"And you're a bad drunk." She was satisfied that he was sobering up and gave him a break from pacing to sit on the edge of the bed for a while. She sat beside him to keep him from falling over.

"Funny, I've had so much practice you'd think I'd be better at it." Her attempt failed as he fell down onto his back like a tree that had just been chopped. He began snoring loudly and she knew he'd be okay.

She turned him onto his side, hoping to stop the snoring, but it only managed to dampen the noise a bit, then she went to fix him a hangover remedy for when he woke up.

A few hours later House showed the first signs of life. Cuddy had been curled up in the chair, reading a book. She looked over to see how bad he was.

House's head felt like it had been scalped, shrunk then stretched back to original size only slightly off on one side. There was now some tiny crew of careless construction workers trying to pound his skull back into shape from the inside.

It took him several minutes to pull himself up into a very slouched sitting position. "What the hell did you do to me?" It was always easier to blame someone else.

"Drink this." Cuddy walked over with the glass of green sludge and handed it to him, carefully wrapping his fingers around the glass to prevent him from dropping it all over himself.

"What is it?" He grouched.

"Just drink it House. You'll feel better."

House drank the disgusting concoction slowly, making the biggest fuss he possibly could without upsetting her enough to take it away from him.

"I spoke to Quintessa," she wasn't sure if this was a good idea or not, but she was a risk taker, so here goes. "About the secret river."

House grumbled.

"She said it doesn't exist anymore."

"You're lying." House was amazed at the lengths to which she'd go to make him miserable.

"Fine, if you're so certain it exists, go look for it, alone. I'm done." She walked back to the couch and returned to her book.

House went to sit at the kitchen table, map splayed out in front of him. The underground river was just so cool. It made him feel like a kid just thinking about it. It had made him feel whole, thinking about wandering through caves, chasing after a treasure. It had made him, for one brief, shining moment, forget he simply couldn't do these things any longer.

"Okay," he said after an hour of painful self abuse, "I'll buy your dried up river theory…"

"It's not my theory House." She had told herself not to engage him in this, not to encourage his recklessness, but once again she couldn't help herself.

"I'm admitting you might be right and you're correcting me?" House said in disgust.

"I am correcting you because you are admitting that Quintessa might be right, not me."

"You should take what you can get." He waited for a response, but none came. Dejected, he went and got himself some crackers.

He stared at the map, turning it this way and that. There was a puzzle here. There was some small detail he was missing. "Damn!" He couldn't do this alone. He started to pace the room slowly, pain shooting through his leg with each step.

Cuddy watched him out of the corner of her eye. She wanted to stop him, tell him to sit down, but he would only resent her for trying to help. Better to let him figure it out himself. He did after a few short paces. The pain grew worse with each step and he finally sat down even more frustrated than when he'd started.

He looked over at her. He wanted to make her talk to him, he wanted her help, but he sure as hell wasn't going to ask her for it. He sighed heavily and extra loudly. She didn't flinch. He let his hand fall heavily on the table making a loud smacking sound. Nothing. He got up and got a beer. He saw her move. She wanted to tell him it was a bad idea to drink so soon after his recent drunken stupor, but she didn't.

"Damn it!" He banged his cane on the counter then stormed out feebly. When he came back in, she was gone.

The map was still laid out on the table where he'd left it. He was drawn to it. Maybe if he focused on that he could stop thinking about his crumbling four day marriage.

House closed his eyes tightly. When he opened them again there were three people looking back at him with anticipation and confusion.

"What are we doing here?" Foreman asked with annoyed condescension.

"I think he's hallucinating," Chase said curiously.

Cameron just came over with that sad little look on her face and put her hand on his shoulder. "He needs us," she said quietly.

"I don't need anybody," House snapped, pushing her hand away.

"Then why are we here?" Foreman leaned against the counter with his arms crossed.

Chase was looking around. He finally turned his attention to the table and smirked. "He can't figure out this map all by himself."

"See, he does need us." Cameron's face lit up. Ever since House had gotten his new team she missed him. Not him, not like that. She missed working for him. She missed the challenging diagnostics, she missed the team, she missed her mentor.

"Bah," House said, waving his cane like a crazy man.

"Let's see what we've got." Chase leaned far too close to House and the older man pulled away with a freaked look on his face.

"You're not my type," he said gruffly.

"Good, you're not mine," Chase replied. Then both men looked over at Cameron who pretended to be busy pulling a string off her blouse.

"Fine," House snapped back, having to have the last word.

"We don't work for you anymore House, why can't you hallucinate about your new team?"

"My new team sucks."

"Can we just get on with this then?" Foreman was resigned to the fact that, being a figment of House's imagination, he was stuck there, but he could at least try to speed up the process. House's head was one place he did not want to linger, figment or not.

"Yes we can just get on with this then," House mimicked snottily.

"What are we looking at?" Cameron leaned in on the other side of House. Foreman was not a leaner, so he kept his distance and let the Bobsie Twins fight over House's minimal affections.

"It's a treasure map." House went on to tell them all he had learned about the map, the island and good old Captain Morgan.

"It doesn't look like a treasure map," Cameron said most unhelpfully.

"Why is she here?" Foreman shot a disapproving look in his former not-friend's direction.

"Because otherwise I'm stuck staring at you two idiots." House looked from Foreman to Chase then back to Cameron again. The blonde hair suited her, even if it did make her and Chase look a little like the Flowers in the Attic kids, which, oh, the cringing possibilities there.

"Fair enough." Foreman had to admit he'd rather look at Cameron than at House for however long they were trapped in the latter's subconscious.

"Did you try turning it upside down?" Chase asked, excited to have the old team back together, even if they weren't excited to be together.

"Duh." Like this was going to work. They were only going to suggest what he'd already figured out. "Just shut up and listen."

The truth was, he needed someone to bounce ideas off of. Cuddy had been right about that, Wilson too. He couldn't function on his own. He was an idea man, but he needed someone around to tell him his ideas were ridiculous and force him to scale them down a bit. He needed to hear himself talk, out loud. He needed to work the problem out verbally, and to avoid being a crazy person, he had to have other people around.

Of course, these particular other people were in his head, so he was, in fact, talking to himself which, by his definition, made him a crazy person, but if he used logic like that he'd never get anything accomplished.

"I don't think changing the way you look at the map is going to change anything." Sensible Foreman killed the joy as always.

"Then what?" House grumbled to himself, which meant they all heard him.

Chase piped in with his two cents. "The map is a constant. It was drawn and has stayed this way for centuries…"

"How do you know that?" Cameron asked, popping his proverbial balloon.

"Huh?"

"She's right." Foreman couldn't help himself. "How do you know that someone hasn't tampered with the map in all these years, added their own lines."

"Look for anomalies!" Chase was onboard with this theory now and poured over the map looking for some evidence that they were on the right track. "Look!"

"What?" House pushed him aside to look where the young blonde once was.

"This blue line, it's a different shade than the others."

Cameron pushed her head into the mix. Chase was right. Most of the other lines were a darker blue, but this one had a hint of light to it, like House's eyes. "He's right. This one was made with a different pen."

"But what does that mean?" House mused.

"It means someone drew a new line on an old map." Foreman was shaking his head at these children. When he'd signed up to work with the legendary Dr. Gregory House, this was NOT what he'd had in mind.

"Where's Cuddy?" Foreman would like to have a few choice words with that manipulative, controlling, carrot dangling boss.

"We had a fight." House said sadly.

"You'd better go and tell her you're sorry." Chase had learned in his two and a half years of dating Cameron that that was the best way to end a fight.

"But I'm not." House wasn't Chase.

"It doesn't matter," Chase said, trying to be quiet, but Cameron heard him and hit him playfully in the back of the head. She then sat next to House and looked him earnestly in the eyes. She placed his hand on his gently.

"She loves you." It was something it had taken Cameron a while to accept, but she was happy now, with Chase, and she only wanted that same happiness for House.

"And she should be committed for it," Foreman said, biting into an apple he found on the counter.

Cameron glared at him before continuing. "Do you love her?"

"Of course I do." Why was it so easy to admit it to them? Oh, right, they weren't really there.

"Then, if you did something wrong, go to her and apologies."

"And you know he did," Foreman peanut galleried, getting another glare from Cameron who was getting quite good at it.

"And if she is the one who messed up, then go and forgive her." Cameron thought It only fair to assume Cuddy could mess up as badly as House could.

"Bah, like that's going to happen," Foreman side barred.

"Would you shut up?" House stood up and snapped. It was quite clear which two sides of his personality these two represented, but Chase was being conspicuously silent during this heart to heart. "Chase, what do you think?"

"You're asking me?" Chase nearly fell out of his chair having nodded off a bit.

"Yes, I'm asking you."

"I think you're a rip the Band-Aid off quickly kind of guy."

"?" House metaphorically scratched his head on that one.

"I think you're so afraid she'll wake up and leave you some day that you are subconsciously trying to push her away sooner rather than later. Rip the Band-Aid off quickly to minimize the pain. That and you're trying to control her leaving you. It's pretty sick."

"She's not going to leave you House." Cameron would cut the bitch if she broke House's heart.

"She's going to leave you. It's just a matter of time." Foreman found his apple quite golden and delicious.

House was getting a headache. He turned toward Chase.

"Look House, Cuddy has seen you at your absolute worse, probably worse than any of us here ever have, and she has stood by you. But if you keep pushing her, she might finally give up, not because she wants to, or because she stops loving you, but because you have made it impossible for her to stay."

"Then she didn't really love me," House pouted.

Chase narrowed his eyes. He was the rational part of House's subconscious and he was weighing the weight of those words. "You don't want her to, do you?"

"What?" House wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer, since he already knew what it was.

"You don't want her to love you. You don't think you deserve to be loved."

"That's ridiculous!" Ridiculously true.

"Oh House." Cameron's heart broke. "You do deserve to be loved." She threw her arms around him and he could feel tears on his shoulder.

"Get off me!" He pushed her away. He rarely ever acknowledged the sappy, romantic, bleeding heart side of him, and now he remembered why.

"He doesn't deserve to be loved," the self deprecating Foreman side of his mind spoke up. "He's an asshole."

"He's a wounded soul who needs to be loved."

"He's a sadistic jerk who needs to be euthanized."

"That was a bit harsh," House protested in his own defense.

Chase stood between them, arms stretched out as though he could actually stop them if they decided to attack each other. "He's just a man, with some very good points and a lot of flaws. And let's face it, Cuddy is no saint. She's just as lucky to have him."

"Yeah," House nodded emphatically.

"You don't believe that," Foreman looked at House with the appropriate amount of disbelief.

"Not really." House shrugged wondering why they weren't talking about his map.

"Look House," Chase tried to regain control of the conversation. "You had a fight, it happens. It's not the end of the world. If you know how many times Ally and I fought…"

"This isn't the time or the place," Cameron warned him.

"Couples fight."

House waited for more, but only for a second. "That's it? That's your sage advice? Couples fight? Well, gee, thanks Bobby, I feel swell now. Why don't you and Wally and the Beav go play stickball in a busy intersection." House threw an apple at them and they vanished.

"Wow. That went badly."

"What?" House looked around and finally noticed his best friend leaning against the counter where Foreman once stood. "What are you doing here?"

"You tell me."

"Is that Foreman's apple?" House noticed an already half eaten apple in Wilson's hand.

"Didn't want it to go to waste." Wilson took a bite.

"Ewe!"

"So, what am I doing here House?" Wilson started walking around. The place was paradise.

"I don't know," House mumbled.

"Oh, come on House. You're on your honeymoon. Where's Cuddy?" He looked under the table, just in case.

"Don't know."

"What'd you do?" Wilson wasn't going to play nice. He knew House had screwed up somehow and was ready to call him out on it.

"I didn't do anything. It's this…my damned leg…" House pounded on his thigh and pain shot through him like a missile.

"You might wanna stop doing that," Wilson said calmly.

"Yeah, well, you might wanna leave…"

"But I can't. Yeah, I get it." Wilson rolled his eyes and sat down. "So?"

"Everything was going fine. I was happy Wilson, happy. The sex…well, the sex has been phenomenal."

Wilson clamped his hands over his ears. "I'm not listening to stories about your sex life. Not with Cuddy." There was something decidedly icky about hearing the sexual escapades of two people he knew.

"It's important to the story."

"I don't care."

"Fine. Suffice it to say, we've been very active."

"Lalalalalala"

"Wilson!" House pulled Wilson's hands down. "It's over now."

"Thank God." Wilson's tender little ears couldn't take much more.

"I mean, it's over now." House spoke with a darker more ominous tone.

"Oh." Wilson frowned. "For good?" This was going to be bad.

"I don't know." House always knew it would happen. He'd just hoped to get more than four days with her. Stacy had lasted almost five years before turning her back on him.

"Well, what went wrong?" It had to be more than just the leg. Cuddy would never walk away from him when he was in pain.

"I can't stop blaming her for it." House was free to open up, because Wilson wasn't really there. It was just a figment of his imagination. He could finally tell Wilson all the things he never did. All the things he never told anyone. "It's been ten years and I still blame her for my pain."

"She was doing what she had to, House."

"She did what I would have done." House laughed a short, sad, bitter laugh. "I was the one who taught her to do whatever it took to save her patient, even if it went against the patient's wishes. I told her they would come to appreciate what she did for them."

"But you never did."

"I lied. Not everybody wants to be saved."

"Do you still think you'd be better off dead?" Wilson found that hard to believe.

"I believe she would be better off. I believe the world would be better off."

"What about all those people whose lives you saved?"

"Just because you stop someone from dying doesn't mean you saved them." House didn't believe that breathing and maintaining a pulse was the be all and end all that other, more God fearing types seemed to think it was. "We don't know what we're sending them back to. Patching up an abused woman so she can go home and get beaten up again isn't saving her."

"That's not what we do House."

"You don't know that Wilson."

"Have you told her you still feel like this?"

"Do you think I have to?" She knew. He could see it in her eyes. The pain and guilt every time he got worse. She felt emotionally as bad as he felt physically. He made sure of it.

"Probably not." Wilson fell silent for a while, gazing down at the table and the strange old map. "What's this?"

"Treasure map."

"Really?" Wilson perked up.

"Yes." House's mind was calculating. "But you don't want to talk to me about that."

"You mean YOU don't want to talk to you about that." Wilson retorted.

"How do I stop blaming her?" He wanted to, he really did. He knew that if he didn't, he would end up pushing her away. He just…he didn't have it in him to forgive her. Of all the things she could have done to him, betraying his trust, manipulating the situation and going against his wishes about what happened to his own body were betrayals he could never forgive. The ironic thing is, he would have applauded her for doing the exact same thing to someone else. He would have aided her in doing the exact same thing to Stacy had the roles been reversed, but he could never forgive her for doing it to him.

"There is no map to forgiveness House." Wilson was looking at the map before them. "No X marking the spot, now path to follow. You're going to have to figure this one out on your own."

"And what if I can't?"

"Then…you're screwed." Wilson faded away slowly.


	6. Chapter 5

**-5-**

House dragged himself out of the empty bed. He hadn't slept a wink last night, waiting for her to come to bed and apologize to him. Of course, he'd made no move to apologize to her, but that was irrelevant.

He slowly pushed himself up to his full height, leaning more heavily than usual on his cane. With the agility of a very old man he slid his way across the hard wood floor as quietly as he could. As he knew she would be, she was curled up on the sofa, sleeping.

He leaned on his cane, watching her. When that became burdensome, he perched himself on the arm of the sofa. He tried to remember what Chase and Wilson and the others had told him. He was going to lose her if he didn't do something to make her want to stay.

Cuddy stretched her back and felt her vertebrae crack into place. She moaned away her aches as she twisted and stretched. "What are you doing?" She finally opened her eyes and saw him staring down at her.

"Watching you sleep." He still didn't take his eyes off her. It was as if he were mesmerized by her.

"That's creepy." She adjusted the dress she had worn the day before.

"I know." In one smooth motion he slid off the arm and onto the couch proper. Cuddy moved her feet out of the way just in time to avoid them being crushed.

"Are you feeling better?" Something in his mellow vibe told her it was safe to ask.

"Yep." He rested his hand on her calf. "So it's time for make up sex."

"When did we make up?" There was a masking humor in her voice.

"We didn't…yet." He shifted toward her, leaning in as she pulled back.

It didn't take long for her to run out of room to retreat to, and that's when he made his move, slipping his hand high under the thin madras cotton dress as he pressed his lips tightly to hers. She moaned in protest for about half a second before melting into the kiss. She loved kissing him. He wasn't one of those soft little peckers. When he kissed a woman, he meant it, and she felt it to the bottom of her soul.

While he was kissing her, he stealthily slipped his hand between her legs. He was smiling inside as he felt those legs part gently, allowing him access. He knew she wouldn't deny him access. No matter how mad she was at him or how hard to get she was playing, she always gave in.

"Tell me you're sorry," he whispered, playing his hand too soon.

"I'm not the one who should be sorry."

"You don't think you did anything wrong?" He was moving around inside her, his fingers setting the stage for what was to come.

"No," she breathed, already feeling the effects of his expert touch. He knew her body almost better than she knew it herself.

He had mapped it out, studied it, and committed it to memory. When life was particularly tedious, when his team was rattling off their chronically inept diagnostic guesses, he would close his eyes for a moment and picture her standing naked before him. It was what got him through the long, talked out months of Wilson's divorce.

"Tell me you're sorry, and I'll reward you handsomely." It wasn't about who did what to whom anymore, or at least not at the moment. That was too much for them to deal with right now, so they pushed it far into the back of their minds and focused on something else. It was now about who could break the other first. It was a bittersweet foreplay they had indulged in many times before.

"What am I supposed to be sorry about?" She might just do it, if the terms were right. She could feel his fingers, long and agile, getting her moist and ready to take him in. He was preparing her, getting her worked up.

House pulled away completely, hands, body, lips, all leaving her cold and unsatisfied. "If you don't know…"

"Damn you Gregory House!" She wasn't going to let him stop now. She pushed him down and climbed on top of him, pulling at his tee shirt like a greedy child unwrapping a present she knows she'll love.

"That didn't sound like an apology." He let her undress him. There were far worse sensations in the world.

"It wasn't." She ran her hands across her bare chest. For them, oral sex was the unspoken apology and whoever went down first was admitting their culpability in whatever fight had just taken place. So when she started to sink down his lanky body, he figured he'd won, and leaned back, waiting for his reward.

She was now kneeling before him, her hands resting on his knees, gently pulling them apart. She had the flap in his boxers open before he realized what she was doing and was gently coaxing his dick out into the open.

She kissed the inside of his knee, and then worked her way up his thigh slowly. The first thing he felt was her hair brushing against his tip gently as her head moved closer to it's goal.

"Are you sorry House," she purred between kisses, making it so seductive and so undetectable that he almost gave in.

"I'm….not." He remembered the true prize. Sure, having her go down on him now would be nice, but having her admit she was wrong, then go down on him as penance would be even nicer. Victory was far too sweet to hand over without a fight.

Cuddy frowned. She pulled away from him and plopped down on the sofa. "Pity."

"Pity?" House squeaked.

"I was feeling a little creative. Thought we'd try something new. But if you're not sorry…"

Creative? Something new? Damn her!

"RRRRRR." He fought the desire to surrender. It was strong, almost overpowering, but if he did, she would never let him live it down.

"So, what do you want to do today?" She asked him sweetly.

"What do you think?" He pushed his weight on top of her again. After a deep kiss that left her helpless beneath him, he pulled the thin straps of her dress off her soft shoulders, kissing the skin now exposed by his actions. Not satisfied with shoulder flesh, he slid the dress down further, thankful for its loose fit.

He now had her trapped, her arms pinned down buy the dress now hovering around her waist. Her beautiful breasts stood pert in the cool morning air. He brushed his fingers across one then the other.

"What are you doing House, let me go." She was struggling to shimmy the dress either higher, back onto her shoulders, or lower to pull her arms out, but neither was successful as her shimmying was limited by his determination to keep her exactly as she was.

"Now, now, say you're sorry and I'll let you do whatever you want. But until then I get to do whatever I want." And what he wanted to do was to suck on each breast greedily. Cuddy's squirming beneath him just made the activity a bit more active.

"I should be doing whatever I want to you until YOU apologize." She protested.

"Go right ahead." House leaned back. He was sitting on top of her, looking down at her bare torso and determined face. He managed to pin her arms under his strong legs, and there they would stay until he was good and ready to let her go.

He loved making her angry. That flush she got in her cheeks, the fire in her eyes, she was stunning when she was angry. He couldn't help himself. He had to smile.

"Stop smiling." She was struggling, but it was pointless. The man weighed a ton compared to her.

"No," he told her easily. "Are you sorry yet?"

"No." she said back, just as quickly. "But you're going to be once I get out of this." She was trying to pull her body up out of the dress, so House just let his weight come down on her completely. He'd been holding back, not wanting to crush her, but she asked for it.

"Awf." She protested spontaneously as his full heft descended on her. "You're crushing me."

"Tell me you're sorry."

"Never."

"Well, that kind of attitude is going to get you nowhere." He bounced a little on top of her, just to punctuate his weight a bit.

He ignored her further protests. He wasn't listening to a word she said until she said what he wanted to hear. In the meantime, he began to fiddle with her breasts again, much to her annoyance.

"You can always scream for help." He was taunting her now.

"I hope you've got a good divorce lawyer," she threatened.

Screaming would do her no good. The best she could hope for was puncturing one of House's ear drums, and that wasn't going to get her anything but an even more annoying deaf husband.

"All you have to do is say you're sorry and all this can end." House was in no hurry. He was quite comfortable. He did wish he'd thought to bring a book though. There was no TV in the Villa and he feared he might get a little bored. Oh, wait, he had funbags to play with.

With a smile House pressed down on her nipples. They had already been activated long before, and the hard nubs felt nice against the pads of his fingers. "Does that hurt?" He asked her in all seriousness.

"Ow. Yes it hurts. Stop."

"Do you really want me to?" He looked down at her, challenging her to lie to him.

She said nothing.

"That's a no then?" He smiled and pushed again.

She felt a mounting wetness between her legs and cursed his ability to do that to her body when her mind wanted to kill him. She thrashed her legs again, an exercise she had learned was pointless a few minutes ago. Still, it made her feel a little better.

"You are a stubborn little thing, aren't you?" House was amused by her attempts to throw him off. She was half his size and didn't stand a chance. On foot she could outrun him, but he'd already trapped her and now there was nothing she could do.

She had exhausted her options. There was only one thing left to do if she wanted this to end. "Oh, what are you doing?" She felt his fingers slipping into her again.

"I'm upping the anti." He grinned. "You're wet." He loved having that kind of power over her.

"You're an ass." It was her standard answer for any situation. The beauty of it was that it was always true.

"I know." House wasn't trying to pleasure her this time. He was merely tormenting her until she gave in, so as soon as he felt any sort of response, he pulled out.

"What!" She wanted more.

"Say you're sorry." He let his finger slide between her moist, swelling lips.

"Not until you do." She had control over her body. She could hold out as long as he could.

"Oh Cuddy." He sounded so disappointed in her. "I have the upper hand. I can sit here and do anything I want to you. You've tried to get away and realize now that it will get you know where. You could scream your pretty little head off, but Quintessa has instructed Adrianna not to bother us down here, so you really have no options left to you. I, on the other hand, can do anything I want." He squeezed her breast to prove the point, then lowered his head to it and gave it a playful little nibble.

She let out a quick shriek as his teeth dug into her skin.

"You will surrender." He was going to win this time.

"I hate you," she spat.

"Do you? Really?" He moved up from her breasts and nibbled on her neck teasingly. He knew it drove her crazy. He'd figured out early on that she had a weak spot right toward the back of her neck, that if he hit it just right, he could get her to confess to anything.

"No," she whimpered, cursing him for being able to manipulate her so easily.

She was proving more determined than he had imagined, and he had to step things up a notch. "I am going to take Wilson to the Monster Truck Rally next month. You can come if you want." He felt her giving up. "Gravedigger is going to be there, and for a nominal fee I can have my picture taken in the driver seat. How cool is that?"

She tried to ignore him as she usually did when he started talking Monster Trucks, or the L Word or any of his other interests that she didn't share, but with nothing to do but focus on the sharp prickles in her legs, she had no choice but to suffer through his story about some daredevil stuntman who was supposed to perform some amazing stunt at the Rally this year. He was supposed to be there last year, but something went wrong with one of his stunts and he was in traction, so he is making his big comeback this year and…

"I'm sorry House." She cracked. "For whatever it is you think I did, I'm sorry."

"What?" He stopped his steady flow of bull and leaned in. "I didn't hear that. What did you say again?"

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry House." She covered it nicely with a sarcastic delivery, but she was sorry, every day for the past ten years she was sorry and she would continue to be sorry until the day she died. But for now, she was just sorry she'd been stupid enough to let him get the upper hand.

"You are forgiven." He wished he meant it, he really did. "So, what do you want to do today?" He slipped off her and helped her sit up. Her poor legs were numb and she didn't quite have control over them yet.

"You can't be serious!"

"I think I want to go for a walk." He stood up.

"HOUSE!" He had forced her to apologize, and now he was going to make her beg too?

"You can come if you'd like."

"I would like to cum House. Now get your ass over here and make me."

House looked at her, twisting the words around in his head until he found an interpretation he liked. "Well, if you insist."

Instead of going down on her, he pulled her up off the couch and dragged her toward the door.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm making you come with me. That's what you said you wanted." He smiled. She was going to kill him one of these days, but damn it would have been worth it.

"That's not what I meant." She practically growled the words.

"Go get changed and come out with me. If you're good, I'll give you what you really want." He slapped her ass and pushed her toward the closet.

"Widowhood?" She said sharply, but went and grabbed a change of clothes and vanished into the bathroom.

When she came out she was refreshed. It had taken her quite a while and House couldn't help but wonder what she'd been doing in there. He eyed her suspiciously, trying to see if she was still as frustrated as she was when she went in.

"You look…refreshed." He said pulling his beloved backpack onto his shoulder.

"No thanks to you," she sighed, hurrying off after him, since he was clearly in no mood to wait.

The trip to the lagoon would have been a short five minute trek, but between House's pained pace and Cuddy's need to photograph every flower they passed on the way, it took over half an hour to get there.

"Wow." House stopped in his tracks and gazed on the tropical paradise that opened up before him. It had been worth the trip.

The lagoon itself was small and crystal clear, surrounded on two sides by rocks, one by a beautiful white sandy beach, and the other had a small, shimmering waterfall. It was a hundred times smaller than its big brother, and no more than five feet across, but it looked refreshing and beautiful as it crashed onto a rock below it and sprayed into the lagoon. Tropical flowers and plants larger than a human head surrounded the small clearing and the sun shone brightly down on this little hidden paradise.

Cuddy came up behind him and stopped to take in the view. "It's magnificent." She pulled out her camera and shot as many pictures as she could.

When she ran out of memory, she put her camera away and put her bag down near a small cluster of rocks. "Let's go for a swim." She then took House's hand and tried to pull him toward the water.

"I'm not going in there," House pulled back.

"Not even skinny dipping?" She pulled off her hiking shorts and peeled the army green tee shirt over her head.

"You go right ahead." House leaned against a nearby tree. This was definitely a spectator sport.

"You're missing out." She slid out of her panties and bra and added them to the clothes she'd piled on a rock.

House watched as, with the grace of a dancer, she lifted her arms over her head and dove with ease into the crystal clear water. Moments later her she popped her head out and slicked back her dark, wet hair. "It's nice and warm," she tried to persuade him to join her.

"I'm sure it is." House crushed a spider with the end of his cane.

"You don't know what you're missing." She floated on her back, pushing herself across the water with long, smooth strokes.

"Show me." He grinned.

She shrugged and vanished beneath the water once more.

House followed her sleek form as it sped through the water. He liked the way her body changed shape beneath the water's wavering surface.

She came up for air at the other end of the small pool. She was frowning. House asked what was wrong. "I was going to have you under this waterfall. But I guess I'm just going to have to take care of myself." She grinned mischievously, and then dove under the water.

House's eyes grew wide. He walked along the bank of the small pool, following her trail. When she came up for air, a few feet from the waterfall, he was already perched comfortably on a rock. "Don't let me stop you," he said graciously.

She just shot him a look then turned her back to him. She walked slowly under the water fall. The water here was just above her knees, exposing all the best parts of her body. She shivered as the cold water splashed over her.

She leaned her head back, the water flowing down it, making a sleek sheet of black silk. House thought of what it would feel like falling between his fingers. She swept the sheet of hair over her shoulder, letting the water run down her back. The small beads of water slid down the curve of her back, clinging to her flesh, unwilling to part with it. House knew how that felt. He smiled at the memory of her flesh in his hands. He watched as the sheet of water came down on her ass. House felt a sudden urge to squeeze that ass, to hold it firmly in his hands.

When he looked down, he noticed that his right hand had formed a cup, just the right size to hold one of her sweet cheeks. He closed it into a fist and tried to think of something else.

Cuddy turned to face him. Her face was fresh and clean. She looked exotic and beautiful surrounded by tropical plants and bright flowers, and the water, pouring over her extremely naked body, hugging every curve.

Her nipples were hard, he could see them from here. He gasped as he watched her take both her breasts in her hands. She held them up toward the falling water, her head back to let every drop fall onto her waiting, eager breasts. He felt that familiar rumbling in his groin. She knew exactly how to turn him on, damn her.

She slid her fingers gently across her hard nipples and gasped at her own touch. She was putting on a show for him. Her hands slid down her body slowly. Had they been his hands, the process would have been much faster. He was an impatient man.

Both her hands slipped between her legs. She let out a moan of pleasure as her own fingers slid between her lips. House moaned right along with her as he watched her body responding. Knowing he was watching her only made her wetter and hotter. She groaned again as she slid one long, elegant finger inside. She leaned back against the rocks, uncertain she could support herself.

Her eyes were closed, her lips parted. She was breathing heavily as her fingers gently massaged her clit, slipping between her lips. The water prevented her from being too lubricated and caused a natural friction to heighten the experience.

In her mind she was thinking of House. She was imaging his hands on her as she slid one hand across her bare flesh, grabbing one breast and squeezing it hard, the way he liked to do. She nearly called out his name, but bit her tongue. Instead she let out a low, guttural moan.

House had to close his eyes. He couldn't watch. He couldn't not watch. His eyes demanded to be on her, watching every moment of pleasure she was giving herself on his behalf. He wanted to call out orders, to bark instructions to her like a drill sergeant, but he dared not disturb the silence that surrounded them. He couldn't let anything break the spell that had come over her.

She was panting heavily now, pushing herself to her limit. She knew exactly were to move, what to do, to send herself into a frenzy. House could feel it, the electric tension shooting off her body. He knew she was close by the change in her breathing, by the way she groped desperately at her own body or clung to the rocks for support. He could feel the electricity in the air, smell her heat on the wind.

He couldn't take it any longer. He threw his cane down on the ground and dove into the water in all his clothes. He swam over to her quickly.

Cuddy's eyes opened in surprise. "House!" she gasped as he climbed up to her.

"You didn't think I was going to let you have all the fun now did you?" He pressed her against the rock, her arms pinned to her sides. He sunk his mouth deep over her neck, sucking hard on her flesh.

She moaned, the heat still pulsing between her legs. He slid down her body, his lips leaving a moist trail as he went down over her breasts, over her flat stomach, into the shock of hair nestled between her parting legs.

He felt the water hitting his back, pouring down, soaking through his shirt. He should have undressed before he plunged into the lake, but it was too late to worry about that now. He kissed the tuft of hair before letting his tongue run between her lips, gently gliding over the swollen flesh, teasing her mercilessly.

Cuddy cried out as House flipped his long tongue in and out of her fast then slow, then up and down then side to side. He kept changing, keeping her guessing as to what was coming next.

As soon as he felt her cum, he fell back into the lake. Water splashed up around him as he felt himself sink deep into its warm arms. Cuddy dived in after him, her smooth body brushing along his under the water. He felt her hair, like silk floating against his body.

He grabbed her under the water, and pulled her into his arms. They came up for air together then he pulled her back under. He squeezed her ass, buoyancy had changed the way it felt in his hands. He pulled her ass toward him. He could feel her fumbling with his pants. She pulled him out of his pants just in time to sink him deep inside her.

They twisted and turned in the water, bobbing up and under the water, catching their breath, before plunging back into the depths.

It didn't take long to make him come. He'd been holding it in for what seemed like hours. When it was over, both their bodies floated exhaustedly toward the water's edge. House leaned against some shallow rocks while Cuddy laid her head on his shoulder.

"I thought you didn't want to go swimming," Cuddy said innocently, after they'd caught their breath.

"A man can change his mind."

"Not you, you're the most stubborn man I know." She tightened her grip on his arm and felt her body rising to the surface of the water.

"Stubborn like a bull, hung like a bull." He turned to face her and pulled her tightly in his arms.

"Too bad you smell like a bull too." She pushed his head under the water. He pulled her down with him and they came out together, lips locked in a deep kiss.

"Oh, you better take that back!" She had escaped his grasp so he swam after her, water splashing everywhere. Then it happened and he cursed every god whose name he could think of, and some whose names he made up as he went along.

A flash of pain tore through his body. It paralyzed him. He felt himself sinking under the calm blue water of the lagoon. He didn't try to fight, satisfied that the last moments of his life had been spent making hot love to his hot wife under a small waterfall on a beautiful tropical island. If he had to go, this was as good a way as any.

"House!" He heard her scream muffled through the water that surrounded him. He felt her pulling on him, tugging him. He felt the surface of the water break over their heads and took a deep gasp of air. "Are you alright?" She sounded terrified, desperate. He wanted so badly to lie to her, tell her he was fine, but he just couldn't.

"My leg…" he was out of breath.

"What happened?" She had pulled him to shore and was checking his vitals like a good doctor.

"Cramp." He didn't want to go into it.

"I'm sorry." The guilt kicked in. He knew it would. He used to use it against her, manipulate her through her own guilty conscious, but he couldn't do it now. It was just too cruel.

"It wasn't your fault." He tried to remember if he'd ever said those words to anyone before. He was sure he must have, but he seemed to have blocked it out of his mind.

"House, I pushed you too hard. After yesterday…" She was rubbing his chest therapeutically.

"I don't want to talk about yesterday." He pulled himself up and away from her.

"I know. But…"

"Don't ruin this." He just wanted to enjoy the day, the love they'd just made, the sun shining down through the surrounding trees, the peace. He didn't want it dampened by talk of his inadequacies.

Cuddy had to fight to hold back. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, but they were things he didn't want to hear. "Come lay down." She pulled a towel out of her bag and put it down in the sand, in a spot where the sun would dry them off and warm them up.

House pulled his pill bottle out of her bag and drained it into his mouth. He had no idea how many pills were left in there, and it didn't matter. Too many would not have been enough to deal with the pain he was feeling deep inside him. Then he went and lay beside her.

"You should take your clothes off to dry."

"NO!" House did not want that damned scar to be shining up at him in the bright sunlight. He didn't want her staring at it that way she did, with that sadness in her eyes. He wanted to forget it existed. There were times when he wanted to cut it the hell off, but he couldn't. It was a part of him, and he couldn't remove a part of him no matter how much pain it caused him.

They both fell silent, staring up at the sky or the lush beauty around them, anything but at each other. After a long few minutes passed, House reached out for her hand. He laced his fingers between hers. He still didn't look at her for fear she was looking back, or say anything to her for fear of it being the wrong thing, but he lay there, holding her hand to remind himself that she was there.

Cuddy watched the clouds roll by. She almost said something, when he took her hand, but remained silent, simply enjoying the fact that he hadn't pushed her away. Her heart had finally fallen back into its slow, steady rhythm after having been shaken by the image of House's slowly sinking body.

She had almost lost him…again. It was a thought she didn't let herself have too often. It was far too painful.

The first time he had nearly died at her hands was during a complication from the surgery she'd had done for his Infarction. He had died, for a few seconds, before she went against his wishes and brought him back. At that point she had thought their friendship would never recover from her conspiring against him with his girlfriend Stacy, so she really had nothing more to lose.

Still, he had made her pay. Lawsuits piled up on her desk daily. He'd posted nude college photos of her in the hospital cafeteria, cancelled her meetings, sabotaged her dates, and scarred off donors. Anything he could think of to ruin her life, he did without hesitation.

It had to be worse for Stacy though, living with him. In the first few weeks after his surgery, Stacy would come in crying every morning and talking about how he never moved from the couch. He was barely eating, didn't sleep, didn't talk to her, he simply laid there watching television and popping pills chased down with booze. It was her friends desperate pleading that made Cuddy go see him and ask him to come back to work.

She still remembered the sight of him, laying listlessly on the couch, a mere shadow of the man she admired. She made polite small talk, "How are you? Is everything okay?" The typical ritual one goes through when visiting an invalid. But he didn't respond. His only answer to her heart felt pleas was to turn up the television.

Obviously compassion wasn't going to work. Cuddy walked over and yanked the TV cord out of the wall. "As your doctor I am asking you if you are medically suitable to return to work." She had her hands on her hips, trying to look and sound more authoritative than her 32 years made her feel.

"No." House pointlessly used the remote, trying to make the television come back on without electricity. Finally he gave up and threw it at her.

Cuddy bobbed out of the way quickly. "Well you can't stay here, doing…this." She looked around at the large amount of nothing he'd been doing.

"Well, I'm no longer capable of doing anything else," he shot back making a bitter gesture toward his leg.

"House, you're not dead." She knelt down in front of him. "I know it's hard…"

"Do you? Really?" He spoke with a cruel edge in his voice that she'd never heard in him before. "You know what it's like to have the woman you love betray you, to conspire against you to destroy your life?"

"Stacy did what she felt was right." She didn't notice the strange flash of confusion that crossed his face. "She saved your life House."

"The two of you condemned me to a living hell." He was angry. It was an uncontrollable rage. He wanted her to get away from him before he did something, before he lost control of the rage and hurt her. But he knew she wouldn't move away. "I can't walk!"

"You can." She was getting frustrated. This was not the man she knew. "You just have to work at it House. You're never going to get better if you sit around here all day. Come back to work…"

"HA!" He used his new cane to push her. She fell onto the floor. She looked like she was about to cry, but he didn't care. Her pain would never match what he was going through. "How do you think I am going to accomplish that?" He gave her a demonstration of just how much he couldn't go back to work.

He pushed the cane deep into the floor and grabbed the arm of the sofa with his free hand. Then he pulled himself with great effort to his feet. As soon as he attempted the first step, he went crashing to the floor. Luckily he was on enough pain killers that the fall didn't hurt him that much.

"Oh!" Cuddy rushed over to him and pulled his head into her lap. "I…" She was going to cry.

"Don't!" He snapped. The last thing he needed was another irrational, guilty female crying all over him.

It took a few more weeks of Cuddy coming over every day, and forcing him to try to walk, mainly by annoying him into it, before he was on his feet and mobile enough to go back to the hospital. Once that happened, his relationship with Stacy was all but over. He hardly ever left the hospital and she was eventually driven away by the loneliness and pain he'd caused her.

She turned and looked over at House. He was sleeping soundly. She kissed his forehead gently and whispered in his ear. "I'm sorry House, for everything." She kissed him again then got up and went for a swim.

House woke up a few hours later, famished. "You didn't pack a lunch did you?" He was sorry to see her dressed and sitting on a rock looking at the pictures she'd taken on her camera.

"I packed some snacks." She put the camera down and went to get her bag.

"I can get it," House grumbled as he pulled himself to his feet. His clothes had dried in the sun and felt a little crispy as he walked through the sand to her bag of goodies. He fumbled around until he found some apples. "Want one?" He asked. When she said yes he tossed an apple over to her then followed it on foot.

"Let me take your picture." Cuddy fumbled around changing the memory card before holding up the camera but all she got was an extreme close up of the palm of his hand as he took the camera from her.

"Come here." He pulled her into his arm and held the camera as far away as his long arm would allow. He knew it was cheesy, but he wanted a picture of them together.

"My hair looks awful." She was looking at the picture in fright.

"You look beautiful." He wasn't just saying it. He never just said things. Of course, when she was dressed to the nines, hair pulled up, makeup perfect she looked stunning, or in her power suits, with cleavage down to there and skirts so tight he could tell what she was wearing underneath she looked sexy as hell, but right in this moment, with no make up, her bra and panties substituting as a bikini, she looked absolutely beautiful.

She fought off a smile. "I'm still made at you." She turned her back to sulk.

"Why?" He slipped the bra strap off her shoulder and positioned the camera to catch her when she turned to pull it up.

"Stop!" She blushed and cocked her head adorably to one side. "You haven't apologized to me yet."

"Is that all?" He pretended it was no big deal, that she should be passed it all, but if it made her feel better, he would patronize her with an apology. "Well, Mrs. House, I am deeply sorry that you…" she hit him. She knew he was going to screw around with his apology. "Cuddy, I'm sorry about yesterday." He leaned over and kissed her forehead sweetly.

"It's not your fault House." She leaned into him for a hug, nestling between his long legs.

He let her stay where she was, but just had to say something.

"Don't ruin the moment," she ordered quietly.

They stayed at the lagoon, laying arm in arm for most of the afternoon, talking about boring things that didn't much matter just to enjoy the sound of each other's voices. It was nice, and warm and safe, but it had to end eventually, and House knew he'd have to be the one to end it.

He'd depleted his supply of Vicodin and had to get back to the Villa to see if his package had come.

The walk back was much shorter. House was running out of time. He could feel the dull pain starting to inch its way from the epicenter of his thigh through the rest of his body in a slow, agonizing wave and Cuddy had taken all the pictures she needed on the way there. She also recognized that look in his eye and knew what was coming.

House pushed his way into the villa and nearly dove at the package sitting on the table. He pulled at the tab, and tore at the ends of the heavy cardboard box, but the only thing that seemed to accomplish was making him more agitated.

"Here, give it to me." Cuddy held out her hand patently and waited for him to slam the box into it. She went over to one of the kitchen drawers and pulled out a knife. With one quick swipe, she cut through the cardboard, freeing up his pills.

"Thanks," House mumbled as he twisted open a bottle and poured its contents into his mouth. He didn't quite empty it before Cuddy grabbed the bottle and pulled it away from him.

"That's enough."

"Don't tell me what's enough," House shouted, but did nothing more. She was right. He had already taken enough to fade the pain. He just needed to wait for them to start working. In the meantime, he pulled the map over and stared at it.

"Are you still determined to find this treasure of yours?" Cuddy handed him a glass of water.

"Yes I'm STILL determined to find the treasure." It was a treasure. How was he going to just drop it? "I'm going to figure this map out." He spit out the water he'd just sipped. "What the hell is this?"

She choked back a laugh. "It's water House."

"Well, put something in it." He pushed the glass across the table. She caught it just before it went off the edge.

"Yes master," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"That's right," he mumbled under his breath, not quite loud enough for her to hear. That didn't stop him from getting into the role however. "And where's my dinner?" He banged his mighty staff aka his cane, on the floor in a very lordly manor.

"Coming right up," and she was quite tempted to have it come right back down, on his head.

House cleared his throat.

"Not gonna happen House," she said quickly, nipping that little game in the bud.

"You're no fun."

Cuddy brought their dinner to the table and sat down across from him. "You want a little fun?"

"Uh huh," he nodded excitedly.

"How about a little wager?" The wheels were already turning.

"Okay." He was always up for a chance to beat her at something.

"I bet, I can find the treasure before you do. And when I do…"

"IF you do, which you won't, but I'll let you go ahead and dream."

She glared at him for a moment. "WHEN I win, you have to be my slave for an entire day. Doing whatever I tell you to do." Oh, this could be fun.

"And when I win," he grinned so wide it hurt, "YOU will be MY slave." This was going to be awesome!

Cuddy balked slightly. There was a very strong chance that her plan could backfire. But it was too late to turn back now." You've got yourself a deal."

They shook on it, both feeling confident enough in their inevitable win that they began coming up with lists of slavely duties for the other while they finished eating in evil plotting silence.


	7. Chapter 6

Hi all. It's been a while. For those interested in the reasons why, I'll tell you that this chapter went through a LOT of changes before finally settling into what you are about to read. As a matter of fact, this whole story has gone through a huge metamophosis. What was originally going to be a light, frivolous, smut filled end cap to my trilogy has slowly morphed into a true resolution to a story arc that started in my head long ago.

If it seems as though the treasure hunt and all feels out of place, that is because there was a huge arc that involved pirate dreams, a parallel storyline and all kinds of high seas type adventure that ended up getting cut. I might leave that for another, more parodyesque story, because I really do like the arc I created for it, but it simply doesn't fit here any longer. The treasure hunt, therefore, might seem a bit arbitrary, but it has led me to a new and in all honesty far more important story to tell. So, I hope you like it.

* * *

**-6-**

House looked over at her for the fifth time that hour. He cautiously nudged her for the third time that night.

"What?" She mumbled, half asleep.

"Spasm," he said. Last time it had been a dream, the time before that he pretended he was in the mood to get frisky. Luckily she wasn't, and he was sent back to his side of the bed.

She turned away from him and tried to go back to sleep. She knew what he was up to. He wanted to go study the map in private. All evening he'd been pouring over the thing, one long arm wrapped around its perimeter to keep her from cheating off him. What he thought she could learn from watching him stare at a piece of paper was unknown, but he still made sure she didn't get the chance to try.

It had been a foolish thing to do, challenging him to a treasure hunt. But after the past couple days it was clear they both needed something to focus their attention on. With him off looking for buried treasure, she could make some calls to the hospital, find out what Wilson had been up to, schedule some meetings for when she returned and reassure herself that there wouldn't be a thousand fires that needed to be put out. Then she would find the treasure, claim her prize and shut him up once and for all.

House listened to her breathing. It was once again falling into a slow, steady rhythm. This time he waited, counting down the time by playing one of his favorite songs in his head. He waited two full minutes before checking on her again. He nudged her gently. No reaction. Carefully he slipped out of bed, leaving his cane behind, afraid it's gently padding against the floor would wake her and subject him to another lecture about chasing windmills and how she was going to win anyway, so he might as well get some sleep.

His bare feet slid softly across the floor like an ice skater floating across the ice, but a lot slower than any self respecting skater would ever go. When he reached the table he felt for the small flashlight he'd strategically left hours earlier and flipped it on. He shot a glance toward the bed, making sure the small beam of light hadn't woken her. She didn't move.

There had to be some trick to this map, some clue he'd over looked. Captain Morgan had long been his favorite Captain…or was that his favorite rum? Whatever it was, he felt that this Morgan fellow must have been a crafty man. You didn't live to a ripe old age in the wild Caribbean without knowing a thing or two about survival, and keeping secrets.

Clearly there was no X because there was some other clue that marked the spot. But what was it?

"Why are you always looking for zebras?" Wilson appeared out of no where, shaking his head slowly.

"Because horses are boring." It really wasn't a reasonable explanation, but Wilson was a figment of his imagination, so he was just going to have to deal with it.

"If you lived in Africa you would find zebras boring."

"When I move to Africa, I'll look for horses." House really wasn't in the mood for another 'visitation'.

"You should be looking for a simple explanation House. Stop making this more complicated than it is."

"I'm going to start looking for a new best friend if you don't leave my subconscious alone." House was sick of these unwelcome visits.

"You're the one who brought me here." Wilson kicked back and relaxed. "Clearly there's something on your mind."

"There is nothing on my mind." House snapped quietly, trying not to wake Cuddy.

"I'm on your mind." Wilson grinned. "I'm flattered, but I think your wife might get jealous."

"You are not on my mind!" House snapped.

"Who is not on your mind?" Cuddy mumbled from the bed.

"You, so go back to sleep."

House looked around him. Wilson was gone. "Well that was pointless." He shook his head and turned back toward the map. What was he missing?

He looked over at the bed. Lisa Cuddy was a lot of things. She was beautiful, she was sexy, she was strong, she was ambitious and she was even smart at times, but there was one thing she most certainly was not. She was not smarter than him. There was no way she had figured out the map before he could. But just in case, he focused all his attention on the old, yellowing paper laid out before him.

House faded in and out of consciousness, the map blurring and unblurring as his eyes grew heavy. Eventually his head landed with a thud. Fortunately he was too tired to have a head ache.

Cuddy woke up some hours later, having slept through the crash. She crept out of bed quietly as the sun just started to peek it's head up over the horizon. House was mumbling something in his sleep, clearly deep in some strange dream of his. Sometimes she was curious and wished she could pop into one of those dreams, to see just what went on in the subconscious of the great Gregory House, other times she was glad she didn't know.

Today she was too busy working on her own agenda to concern herself with the twisted fantasies of her husband. She grabbed her cell phone and headed out toward the beach.

House's body convulsed for a moment then fell quiet again.

Cuddy sat in the sand, staring out at the water. She had changed her mind about calling him three times already. Each time she chickened out before he could answer. There were a number of reasons she didn't want to make the call and only one, or two, reasons why she did.

She jumped when it started vibrating in her hand.

"Hello?" she said nervously.

"Either talk to me or stop calling." Damien sounded more amused than cross.

"Sorry." She blushed even though he couldn't see her.

"Why are you calling me? Shouldn't you be doing unspeakable things to your husband?"

"I am." Cheating on House to win a bet was about as unspeakable as it got.

Damien looked at the phone before speaking again. "I'm sorry Lisa, love you though I do, I am not going to have an affair with you. Not while you're still on your honeymoon." He was teasing her, and he probably would have an affair with her, if he knew that's what she wanted. But it wasn't, so he resigned himself to the teasing.

"What do you know about the treasure of Captain Morgan?" She quickly glazed over the whole affair talk. Those were seriously dangerous waters.

Damien laughed a deep, hearty laugh. "He's found the map has he?"

"Yes."

"I'm sure Tess can fill you in on everything you ever wanted to know."

"Not quite everything." There was one question Quintessa had not been able to answer for them.

"Where is the treasure buried?" He spoke for her.

"You stole my question." She couldn't help but flirt with Damien. He was just one of those men who practically demanded it. "Did you find it?"

"Yes." He was playing coy.

"And? Where is it?"

"Where I found it," he teased.

She paused for a moment. "You didn't take it?"

"When you find it, you'll understand why."

"Damien!"

"What's this really about?" He knew her well enough to know that it wasn't about the treasure. It had to be about House, somehow.

"I made a bet with House, that I could find it first."

"And you thought I would help you?" He was flattered, and a little disappointed, but if it meant hearing her voice again…

"I know you will." She was embarrassed.

"Because you know I'd do anything for you."

"Just tell me where it is." She felt slightly guilty about using Damien like this, but he had told her he would do anything for her.

"Depends. What do you get if you win?" He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know, but he couldn't help but ask.

"House as my personal slave for one day." She fully intended to make him go through all his back files that he kept hidden in the fourth floor closet. She had a feeling he was expecting something naughtier, but hell, she could get him to do that sort of thing anytime.

"And he gets?" Damien knew he wasn't going to like this answer.

"The same."

"Well, that's all well and good for the two of you, but what's in it for me?"

"I'm not going to be your slave." She wanted that made perfectly clear.

"Oh, if only." That was a dream he was going to be having tonight.

"But you can have my undying gratitude." It was really all she had to offer him.

She waited while Damien mulled this over. "For that you only get a hint. Bring your map up to the house. Compare it to the one hanging in my library. You might find it very enlightening." He hung up before she could ask for more.

"Argh!" Cuddy huffily closed her mobile with a snap.

"DAMN!" At the same time, in the nearby Villa, House fell off his chair.

Cuddy came running in to check on him, but he was already halfway to his feet by then. "Fall off your chair?" She said, trying hard not to laugh.

He just glared at her. He noticed the phone. "Business call?"

"Not your business," she tried to sound casual.

"Call your boyfriend?"

She hesitated for a split second before going about her breakfast making business. Had he been listening?

"You did!" That seconds hesitation was enough for House's watchful eye. "You called…OH MY GOD!" It finally clicked. "You're cheating!"

"I am not!" She was turning bright red, so she turned and stuck her head in the fridge pretending to be looking for the milk.

"You called him to find out where the treasure is. That is cheating." House was practically jumping up and down. He knew it! He knew she couldn't figure this out faster than him. "You planned on cheating when you made the bet!"

"I don't remember there being a rule against cheating." She finally emerged from the fridge with all the ingredients for French Toast.

"It's an unspoken rule, Cuddy. It shouldn't need to be said." House was both quite proud of himself for not having been the first to cheat and quite disappointed that he hadn't thought of it first.

"Well, you'll be happy to know that he didn't tell me where it is." She started cracking eggs. House hated her French Toast. She never put enough egg in it. So he came over and pushed her out of the way. She hid a little smile as she stepped aside and let him cook. It was one of the few things he could make from scratch, and she found it sexy watching him bustle around the kitchen, fixing her meal.

"What did he tell you?" House realized he'd been tricked into cooking her breakfast, but he was too hungry to argue. Let her win this battle. He was going to win the war, despite her attempts to cheat.

She thought about telling him and she thought about not telling him. If she didn't tell him, and he found out later, he'd make her pay. Of course his idea of payment wouldn't be so bad, not for something like this. If she told him now, they could call the bet off and look for it together, of course then she'd never get him to do his bloody filing.

"He told you something, now tell me." He swatted her bottom with the spatula.

"Is the bet off?" She jumped a little as it snapped through her thin nightgown.

"Hell no!" House needed this challenge. It was the only thing distracting him from the nagging doubts that had been creeping into his mind ever since they arrived on the island. Hell, ever since he first proposed. They'd never really gone away, only been stifled by a lot of sex and her excitement at becoming his wife.

Now that the excitement was wearing down, and the sex…well, the sex was still frequent and phenomenal, but it wasn't enough to stop him from thinking, not between rounds anyhow.

"House, you're going to burn them." Cuddy snapped him out of the bad thoughts.

"What?" He flipped the toast over. "Well, if you won't tell me what you found out, then I'm not going to tell you what I found out."

"I didn't ask you to." She was being bratty now. She loved a challenge, and beating House was always a big challenge.

"Well good." The food was ready and House pushed a couple pieces on each of the plates Cuddy had set out then carried his over to the table outside. "That way, when I beat you, my victory will be all the more sweet."

Cuddy followed him, watching his shorts clad ass swishing back and forth. He had a surprisingly great ass for someone who preferred sitting around on it all day.

"After breakfast I'm going to go for a walk." She loved his French Toast. She would make it the way he did, but she much preferred making him do it, so she still pretended not to know how.

"I'll come." He didn't want to let her out of his sight. She knew something, and he was determined to know what it was.

"Great." She had to think of some way to get rid of him.

It took great patience, and a lot of stalling, but she waited him out. House always had to go to the bathroom not long after a meal. As soon as she saw him heading off she got up and rushed toward the map. She was spinning it into a tight cylinder when he came up behind her.

"What are you doing?" House leaned over her shoulder, startling her.

"I need to borrow this." Cuddy straightened up, determined to get out of this somehow.

"What? Who said you could use my map?"

"Who said it was your map?"

"Quintessa gave it to me." House tried to take it out of her hands but had underestimated the benefits of yoga.

"What's yours is mine." She tugged. "I'll bring it back in a few hours."

"Bring it back! Where are you going with it?" He pulled harder, yanking her body forward, but still unable to break her grip.

"If I tell you, I'll have to kill you." She smiled at him sweetly then gave a sudden yank that nearly toppled him over.

"Oh, it's like that is it?" House was fine with that. He was stronger than her. It was only a matter of time before he got her to let go.

He gave the map a strong, sharp tug and as anyone could have guessed, they both heard a loud tearing sound. Equally predictable was the fact that Cuddy dropped the map for fear of damaging it more, while House hung on to it in victory. "HA!" He spat triumphantly.

"House, that map is irreplaceable."

"Yes, so it's a good thing you let go of it before you destroyed it even more." House rolled it out to assess the damage.

"I destroyed it? If you hadn't tried to take it from me…"

"If you hadn't taken it from ME…"

"Not everything belongs to you House."

"No, but you do." He tried charming his way out of it, and it worked. A sweet kiss on the cheek and… "Don't…!"

He watched as Cuddy ran out of the Villa with the map. There was only one thing she could always beat him in, and that was a race. "Damn!"

Cuddy was panting by the time she reached the Richmond House. She had checked several times to make sure House hadn't followed her. She knew he couldn't, but that didn't always stop him from trying.

"Ah, Mrs. Dr. House." Quintessa was, as usual, in her garden. "Mr. Wilde told me you would be coming to visit. I was just picking some fresh strawberries for you to bring back to the Villa."

"Thank you Quintessa." It figured Damien would call. The man was always one step ahead of everything.

"You wish to see the other map, yes?"

"Yes, if it's not too much trouble." She had a feeling it wouldn't be.

"No. Mr. Wilde told me to have it ready."

"Ready?" How ready could it get? It was a map.

"Follow me please." Quintessa picked up her basket of strawberries and lead Cuddy into the house. "You and the other Dr. House are quite interested in the treasure, no?"

"House likes to have puzzles to solve."

"And you?" There was a strange sadness in Quintessa's voice.

"I like to win." Cuddy smiled, but it was an empty smile. Here they were, on their honeymoon, and they were competing, again. They should be lounging around naked, making love morning noon and night, and instead they were fighting over an old map and sneaking around behind each other's back.

"Winning isn't everything," Quintessa said wisely.

"Try telling my husband that." Cuddy sighed.

"Here is the map." Quintessa pointed to a large table that was lit from beneath. On it laid the old, ornate map that had hung in the library for centuries.

"You must have looked," Cuddy mused, putting her map on top of the other.

"For the treasure?"

"Yes." Cuddy's eyes grew wide as a giant X marked the spot. It was the junction of two rivers, one drawn on the ornate map, one on the rudimentary map. "Do these rivers exist?" She hadn't remembered seeing either of them.

"If they did, it was a long time ago." Quintessa had successfully avoided answering Cuddy's other question.

"How am I supposed to find it then?" Neither map was exactly to scale, or entirely accurate.

"I will leave that to you."

House paced the Villa like a caged animal. He had thought about going after her, trying to deduce where she'd headed, but the island was too large for him to search, and she could have gone anywhere. He closed his eyes and tried to envision the map.

Damien must have told her about that river. That's where she was headed. He jumped up, ready to take action. "What a minute!" It was so obvious to him now. "Damien drew that river, to throw me off course."

"Now why would he do that?" Wilson was back, shaking his head.

"Because, he wants her for himself." House wondered if Wilson had slipped him the wrong pills. He poured a few into his mouth, just to check; then swallowed them down when he felt they were safe.

"Really?" House's imaginary friend strolled over and dropped down onto the couch. "This is pretty comfy."

"Don't get used to it."

"Why am I here House?" Wilson had better things to do than hang around in House's subconscious.

"I have to find that treasure." It was such a good cover story House almost bought it himself.

"Why?"

"What do you mean why? I have to win the bet."

"Why?"

House looked at his friend with exasperation. Wilson could be quite thick at times. "Because I want to make her do unspeakable things to me."

"She'd do them anyway." Wilson was unimpressed. He was also right.

"I can't let her win!" God, it was like talking to a wall.

"Why not?" Wilson remained the voice of unhelpfulness.

"AAARRRR!" House threw something, the first thing he could find, at Wilson. It was a coffee mug and it shattered to pieces against the wall after whizzing through the apparition.

"Did you think that was going to work?" Wilson chuckled infuriatingly.

"GO AWAY!"

"I can't." Wilson propped his feet up on the coffee table. "You need me." It was nice to be needed and all, but House's mind wasn't the nicest place to be needed in.

"I need to find that treasure." House was like a bulldog. Once his mind was set on a puzzle, or mystery, or diagnosis, he wouldn't give up until he found the answer. He couldn't. It consumed him.

There were times when his puzzles were all he had to take away the mindless hours of pain. When all he could do was lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and biting his tongue to keep from crying out, he had his puzzles. Why was Cuddy wearing that low cut blouse today? What was Stacy reading so intently in the corner of his hospital room? Why did this Wilson guy keep showing up with homemade cookies?

When he wasn't trying to read the people around him, he was pouring over his own case. He should have gone for a checkup as soon as the pain started, but he'd been too stubborn. He should have demanded that Stacy sign something saying she wouldn't touch his leg before going under. But he'd trusted her. Sadly, there were some mistakes in life that couldn't be taken back.

"Which is why you need to stop and think about what you're doing." Wilson had heard House's thoughts. He was, after all, only a portion of House's labyrinthine brain.

"I need to find that treasure." He sounded like a broken record because it was easier to focus on some stupid treasure than to face what Wilson was talking about.

"You're going to lose her House. Like you lost Stacy."

"Cuddy has lasted a lot longer than Stacy." House didn't like bringing up the only other woman who ever truly loved him.

"True, but your relationship has changed. The stakes are higher now."

"We haven't changed." That had been his worst fear, that getting married would change things.

"Oh, right, I forgot. People don't change."

"Exactly!" Finally Wilson was seeing things his way.

"Do you really think she's going to take your abuse forever House?" Wilson sounded very sobering. House didn't like it one bit.

House banged his cane on the floor and Wilson vanished. He didn't notice, however, because he was deep in his own thoughts.

Cuddy had stayed with him for so long because he hadn't given her much option. He had actively sabotaged every relationship she'd had. She would hate him if she knew the lengths he'd gone to, the horrible tactics he'd taken.

He had successfully driven away every man she'd ever dated. Those he didn't scare off he paid off. Those he couldn't pay off he had arrested for drug smuggling. Well, just the one really, and he deserved it.

But Damien wasn't going to be that easy to get rid of. Damien was too confident to be scared off, to rich to be paid off, and too smart to fall for the old slip the pills in his coat pocket trick. "DAMN, DAMN, DAMN!" House threw his cane across the room which, in retrospect, was a stupid idea, as he was still having difficulty walking without it.

As House hobbled across the floor, wincing with each step, he felt a pair of eyes watching him. "Oh Greg," she said sorrowfully.

"Oh shit." He felt his heart sink.

"You're never going to be as good as Damien."

"You don't even know him!" House glared at the dark haired beauty he'd once shared a life with.

"I know everything you know Greg." Stacy walked over and stepped on his cane, preventing him from picking it up.

"Then you know you're the last person I want to see right now."

"Yes." She bent over and picked up the cane. "You should just let Damien have her. He'd be good to her. He'd make her happy."

"The way Mark is good to you? The way he makes you happy?" He could see in her face, saw it the last time they'd actually met, that Mark didn't make her happy. Not completely.

"Well, Mark can't exactly give me this," she motioned around her at the exquisite Villa, "but he makes me feel like he can."

"That doesn't even make sense." House dismissed her romantic overture.

"No, not to you," she said sadly.

"Go to Hell." House threw something at her, he wasn't even sure what it was, and he knew it wouldn't make any difference, but it still felt good to throw something.

"It took me three years to get out Greg." She looked at him and he knew what she meant, since he was the one making her say it. "If you love her, you'll let her go." Stacy's image faded on those words, leaving him alone once more.

House watched the spot she had once occupied, if only in his mind. There was so much he should have said to her. So many things he needed to apologize for, but there was no point. She hadn't really been there anyway. Besides, she had crippled him, so her mistake was far worse than anything he did to her.

House thought about her words. "Why her?" he asked the empty room. had he chosen his ex-girlfriend, the woman Cuddy conspired with to betray him, as the one to tell him to leave Cuddy? What did it mean?

He had screwed up with Stacy, pushed her away but never really let her go. She hated him now, while still loving him. He saw it in her eyes, heard it in her voice. She would never truly be free of him. She would never truly be happy.

Is that what he was going to do to Cuddy? Was he dooming her to the same half life he'd given Stacy? Or would it be worse?

Stacy was strong, stronger than Cuddy, and hard, much harder. She'd had enough sense to get out when living with him became unbearable. He had treated them each with raging hatred. He had made them both miserable, but Stacy had been smart enough to walk away. When he finally pushes Cuddy too far, she will be destroyed in a way Stacy never was. And there was no doubt in House's mind that it would happen, eventually. It was just a matter of when, of how much more she could take from him.

"What happened in here?" Cuddy had returned. She was excited to share her news with him, but the site of shattered glass and ceramic stopped her in her tracks.

"Accident." House looked away. He couldn't look into her eyes. Not right now.

"Clearly." She started to clean up his 'accident'. "I think I found the treasure." She felt better now that all the sharp pieces had been swept up.

"Good for you," he snarled.

She explained all about the two rivers and the X, laying the map out on the table with a large piece of white paper over it. She'd traced the other river onto the paper along with the maps rough outline so she could remember exactly where she needed to go.

"Great," he commented vaguely. It wasn't that she'd found the treasure before him that had him so disconnected. It was that she wanted to share it with him. It made him feel guilty, which was a feeling he didn't like at all. He had no idea how she did it.

"Are you okay?" She was trying to look him in the eye, but he kept avoiding her stare.

"I'm fine," he snapped.

"You're not fine House." She finally managed to grab hold if his head and forced him to look at her. His eyes were bleary and glazed over. "How many pills have you taken today?" He had the distinct appearance of a junkie who just ODed.

"None of your damned business." He pushed her away.

Cuddy was a persistent woman. She had been through much worse than this with him. "Come here and let me check you." She took his wrist to check his pulse. It was racing. "How long have you been like this?" She checked his forehead, which was hot and growing sticky.

"Leave me alone!" He shoved her away a little harder.

"Fine, House, is that what you want?" She was bluffing. She had no intention of leaving him like this. Instead she went to get him a glass of water.

House began convulsing. His body was going into shock.

"House!" Cuddy grabbed the phone and called Quintessa at the house. She hadn't thought about what to do in an emergency, mistakenly thinking that their honeymoon would be one place House wouldn't self destruct.

"Leave me," he fought to keep her away from him. He tried to ignore the fact that he was breaking her heart, telling himself over and over that it was for her own good.

"Never." She slipped herself under his arm, trying to hoist him to his feet. "I'm moving you to the bed. You'll be more comfortable…" he shoved her hard.

"I said leave me! Go! I don't want you." He knew his words were cutting her sharply, that each one tore through her heart like a dagger, but it had to be done.

Cuddy stood and stared at him, unable to comprehend what he was saying. Her eyes began to well up with tears as she stared, unblinking, unable to move or speak or breathe.

"Go to Damien. It's what you really want." He hadn't really wanted to pull the Damien card, but she was leaving him no choice.

"House, stop it! This isn't you talking." She rationalized as she used to do years before. "It's the Vicodin. You took too much," she was speaking slowly, not just because she wanted him to understand her, but to keep herself from breaking down in tears. She spoke slowly, like a doctor, using her words carefully, trying to sooth the patient with them. "We need to cleanse your system…"

"I need you to GO!" House screamed, pushing her away with his cane. "Get away from me. For good." She wasn't getting it. "Forever!"

Cuddy snapped back into action. "No." With superhuman strength she pulled him to his feet and slowly started to move him to the bed. He tried to fight, tried to bring all his weight down on her, to make it impossible for her to move him, but she did it anyway, though slowly, and with great effort. "We're going to get through this House."

He grabbed her wrist. "I don't want to get through this…not with you!" He could see it in her eyes, she was reaching the breaking point.

"Do you want to die House?" The tears couldn't be held back any longer.

"Yes." Why wouldn't she just go? What was it going to take to make her leave him?

"You don't mean that." Her words were shaky and she felt as if she would faint. She leaned against the wall for support as she tried to breathe.

"I mean it Cuddy. I've always meant it." He could feel it coming. He could feel the dam bursting open and the words and anger and pain rushing forth. He wanted to stop it, but it was too late now. "Why can't you just leave me alone? Let me go! Stop trying to save me!"

She just blinked. How could he be saying these words? It had to be the pain killers. It couldn't be him.

"I love you House." She spoke meekly, knowing he didn't care, not in that moment.

"You don't love anyone but yourself. You keep me around because it makes you feel better about yourself. Because you think it's going to get you on the fast track to Heaven. Well let me tell you something. There is no Heaven, and if there were, you wouldn't be going there."

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. It grew tighter with each beat, closing in on itself. He screamed out in agony.

In a flash Cuddy was there, lifting his head and pouring the water into his slack mouth. When he finally could, he pushed the glass out of her hand and listened to it shatter against the wall.

At that moment, Quintessa led a couple of men with a stretcher into the Villa. With great efficiency she instructed the paramedics while coming over to comfort Cuddy. "Mr. Wilde has arranged for Dr. Olivieras to meet you at Andrews Memorial Hospital. It's a short flight. Everything will be fine." Her tone was warm and concerned.

"Thank you, Quintessa. I…" Cuddy was emotionally exhausted.

"Don't say a word. Just go be with your husband." Quintessa took Cuddy's shoulder and led her out after the stretcher. "Andrews is a wonderful hospital. And Dr. Olivieras is Mr. Wilde's close, personal friend. He will take the best care of Dr. House or Mr. Wilde will have him drawn and quartered." She was pleased to see a smile spread across Cuddy's face, even if it was a sad smile.

The plane was not the spacious, luxurious private jet they had arrived on, but a small medic plane appointed with all new medical technology. While a paramedic set House up with an IV and a dose of gas to make the trip more bearable for all of them, Cuddy quizzed them on their techniques, and rattled off House's medical history like she was taking an exam.

House, feeling the gas slowly mush his brain into a pain free cloud of numbness, listened as she went on and on. He wanted to tell her not to worry. He'd been through this before. They would pump his stomach, force him to eat horrible hospital food to see if it stayed down then send him back on his self destructive way. But she already knew that. She'd been through it before.

It was shortly after Stacy had left. Wilson and Cuddy were taking turns keeping an eye on him but Wilson was having problems with Bonnie and made the mistake of trusting House for two minutes. He'd called Cuddy, asked her to come early. She was on her way. House was napping. What could possibly go wrong?

When Cuddy arrived, the door was locked. She woke up several neighbors trying to get in. Finally the super came and let her in.

House was laying on the floor, vomit and blood had pooled together under his mouth. His body was twitching but otherwise lifeless.

"House!" She ran to him, checked his vitals, in full doctor mode. She did everything right, bringing him back to consciousness, filling him with liquids to flush out the drugs, but she didn't trust herself. Ever since the operation he had berated her doctoring every chance he got. Now she needed second opinions on every cough that came her way.

She drove him to the hospital herself. She knew it would take too long to get an ambulance. She sped down the streets of Princeton. At that hour the cops were busy trolling downtown for drunk drivers so she wasn't afraid of being stopped.

The car screeched into the ambulance bay and a stretcher was waiting for them. A few hours later Dr. Yang, the only one she would trust with House's life, came out. "He had a lot of drugs in his system. Another half hour and he would have died." Cuddy broke down in Yang's arms, sobbing.

It had been months since the operation that removed part of the muscle from his leg. She knew he was suffering, and she tried to understand, tried to go easy on him while he recuperated. Things got worse when Stacy left. Now he had a broken heart to go with his broken spirit. It was unbearable, watching him suffer. But that was nothing compared to watching him give up.

To this day House swears it was an accident; that he'd forgotten how many pills he'd taken, but Cuddy knew him. House wasn't forgetful. House didn't have accidents. He was a man in deep pain and he'd just lost the love of his life. She didn't blame him for trying to make that pain go away.

But why would he do it now? She wasn't going to leave him. They had finally gotten together. Why would he have another accident now?

The rest of the night was a blur of white coats rushing past, of blinking and beeping monitors and questions she couldn't answer. "How many pills did he take? What is his usual dosage? Did he have anything to drink?" All she could think about was that she'd left him alone, and she'd almost lost him.

"I'm so sorry House," she cried over his bed as he lay comatose.

Her words penetrated his subconscious like the prick of a pin. Her guilt seeping into his veins. This wasn't her fault. It was an accident. He hadn't meant to take so many pills. He was only trying to stop the pain.

He felt groggy, confused. His head was swimming in a mire of drugs and pain. He could hear someone talking, but it sounded distant. He tried to focus on the voices. They became clearer as the pain shifted and changed. He felt himself slipping away to some long ago time and place. A place he had never wanted to go back to.

"Amputate it if you have to." Stacy sounded agitated, tired, defeated.

"He doesn't want…"

"What's he going to do? Sue you for saving his life?"

"You're a lawyer Stacy. You know he can." Cuddy sounded exhausted, sad, guilty, always so guilty.

"I'll talk him out of it." Stacy wanted this over. She couldn't keep watching him suffer like this. She wanted her vibrant, brilliant asshole back.

"I won't amputate his leg Stacy. I can't." House had practically begged. It was the hardest medical decision she'd ever had to make, but no matter how right she thought it was, she just couldn't do it. "I will do the operation if you give the approval." It was a loop hole that they had worked out. With House unconscious, it was Stacy's job to make any new medical decisions on his behalf.

House felt the rage building up inside him. Both women knew that he would never agree to this operation if he were able to make the decision himself, so they took that ability away from him. He would never forgive them for this.

He was struggling, trying to wake up, to tell them not to operate, but the drugs they had given him finally seeped deep into his brain and shut it down completely. When he woke up again, he would be back in the present, back in the hospital in Jamaica, but the lingering resentment he felt toward the two women who had betrayed him would live on.

Cuddy was curled up in the chair beside his bed. A gentle island breeze blew through the window and she could hear the clanking of boats in the nearby marina. It all lulled her into a restless sleep. It was a sleep plagued with nightmares of the past, nightmares that she had lived through once already and that threatened to come to pass once more.

The operation had been her idea, a compromise between Stacy's desire for amputation and House's desire to do nothing. She had just wanted to make everyone happy. She had wanted a miracle.

She poured over medical journals and case files, called on former mentors and colleagues, all in the hopes of finding some way to save him. But what she really wanted was to keep him in her life, and he knew it. He called her out on her selfish motives for taking his case. He pressed her to admit her feelings for him. He took a perverse pleasure in her discomfort.

That's when she started avoiding him and he began calling her 'the doctor'. The way he said it, the sarcasm that dripped from his voice made her painfully aware of what he thought of her medical skills.

Maybe she wanted to do the surgery to teach him a lesson, to show him that she could be a good doctor. Maybe she had done it for such a petty, selfish reason. But she did believe, she still believed, that he would have died if she hadn't done something. The only other option was amputation and she knew he would hate her forever if she did that. Removing the muscle from his leg wasn't ideal, and she knew he wouldn't go for it, but it was all she could come up with. It was a shot in the dark and she took it.

"He'll never go for that," Stacy told her when she first heard the idea.

"I know." Cuddy took a deep breath. She knew she was asking a lot of her friend, but it had to be asked. "But if anyone can talk him into it, I know that you can."

"I'll see what I can do."

Cuddy should have known Stacy had no intention of talking to House and she wasn't surprised when Stacy came to her with the proxy idea. She should have said no. She should have told Stacy to forget it. It was a horrible idea. It would never work. House would resent them both for the rest of his life if it didn't work. Well, it did work, and he still ended up resenting them.

Maybe if she'd pushed him harder to rehabilitate. Those first few weeks were so important, but he kept coming up with excuse after excuse not to go to physical therapy, not to try to walk, not to wean himself off the drugs. By the time she started to push back, it was too late. The damage had been done.

Their long, twisted relationship had been filled with maybes. Maybe if he hadn't cheated they would have stayed together, maybe if she hadn't done the surgery he would have gotten better on his own, maybe if she hadn't started that stupid bet he wouldn't be laying in a hospital in Jamaica.

It all felt like a house of cards, instable layer upon instable layer, waiting for the smallest gust of wind to come and knock it all down. She was doing all she could to keep it standing, but she couldn't shake the feeling that House was about to take a deep breath and blow it all down.


	8. Chapter 7

I'm glad so many of you are pleased with the direction the story has taken. I was a bit nervous about making such a dramatic switch midstream, but I feel it will be worth it.

Hands **HuddySmutMonkey** a cookie laced with vodka in the hopes it will help you through the angst

**Clark-G**, I gave up on the 'official' timeline, since TIIC seem to have given up on it as well. I'm sure there are discrepancies in this story, but basically House gets hired, he and Stacy start dating (kind of at the same time) a few years later he gets the infarction, couple years later Stacy leaves him. I know it goes against canon, I just don't care. lol

**iamawallflower** Cuddy does seem conflicted between the two boys. I think it's mainly because Damien reminds her of what House could have been, if the infarction hadn't happened. He's like a happier version of House in her mind. But she loves House. She will always love House. She just likes to flirt with Damien, and I can't say I blame her.

**

* * *

**

-7-

Cuddy was in the hallway talking to doctor Olivieras when Damien came strolling in. "Lisa," he held out his arms in greeting, realized it was inappropriate given her stunned reaction, and went and hugged her anyway, because she really looked like she needed one.

"Damien, what are you doing here?" She looked up at him, her eyes red and swollen. Her nose was stuffy, making her sound like a frightened child.

"Dr. Olivieras called, said you might need my help." Damien felt as though he was intruding on something private, but he had access to a private jet that could get them to Princeton in a matter of hours, without dealing with airports and flight schedules.

She smiled weakly. "Then you know…"

"That he needs surgery? Yes." Damien spoke far softer than usual out of respect for the situation.

"He needs a new liver." She knew it would happen eventually, the way he drank and popped back the pills, but did it really have to happen on their honeymoon? Somehow that just didn't seem fair.

"And he'll get one." Damien would buy one off the black market if he had to. He was not going to let this beautiful, vibrant woman become a widow so soon after her wedding.

"Thank you." It was good to have a friend there to lean on. If this had happened at home she'd have all the support she needed in Lo and Wilson, but, nice as Quintessa had been, she and Adrianna were not friends or family so right now, Damien was the closest thing she had.

The past twenty four hours had been hell. As soon as she found out that House needed a transplant she was on the phone, making calls and working her usual magic. It was painful to hear her many contacts gushing about the wedding and wishing her well. They didn't know the liver was for her husband, and she didn't want to tell them. Denial wouldn't make it all go away, but it did make it easier to function.

"It'll all be alright." Damien was one of those obnoxious people who always believed that everything would work out. He had never understood the mentality of preparing for the worst. Was he prepared for bad events? Of course, but he never thought of it as preparing for the worst. He thought of it more as assuring the best possible outcome for any situation.

On the flight down to Jamaica he had made all the necessary arrangements to get the House's back to Princeton. Quintessa was already packing up their things to ship back; the hospital had been called and notified of their arrival, under an assumed name so as not to attract gawkers wanting to mourn over one of their own. Cuddy wasn't going to have to lift a finger.

He kissed her head gently. "Let's get you home." He filled her in on the evacuation plans and instructed Dr. Olivieras to begin prepping House for the move.

Cuddy slept soundly through most of the flight, with the aid of a little something Damien slipped into her water. When she finally did wake, she was painfully reminded that it hadn't all been some horrible nightmare. She got up and went to sit beside Damien who was pouring over some documents of some kind. "I'm not interrupting am I?"

"It is the best possible kind of interruption my dear." He pushed the papers aside. "My brother wants me to invest in yet another of his hair brained schemes."

"Will you?" She wanted to talk about anything besides House's condition right now.

"Why not?" He shrugged. To him life was pointless without risk.

"Indeed." Cuddy sighed. She'd taken risks in her life, but they had always been calculated, well thought out risks. The biggest risk she'd ever taken without thinking was falling in love with House.

Lo had told her not to, to distance herself from the selfish bastard; that he would only end up hurting her, but young Lisa was in love. She had taken a risk on him and he had broken her heart. And here she was again, taking a risk on the same man, a man who hadn't changed much since then, not for the better at least, and she was getting her heart broken again.

She started crying and Damien went and sat next to her.

"You want to talk about it?" Damien asked as gently as he could.

"No." Cuddy shook her head.

Honoring her wishes, Damien simply let her cry against his shoulder offering a tissue every time she needed one. But Cuddy found she couldn't stop thinking about the things House had said to her, and since she was going to dwell on it in her mind, she might as well talk about it.

"He told me he didn't love me." She sniffled, adding another used tissue to the waste basket beside the couch. It wasn't exactly what he'd said, but her emotions and her nagging fears had morphed his words into their worst possible connotation.

"Nonsense." Damien had a feeling she was blowing things out of proportion. She had to be. "That man adores you, almost as much as I do." He tried to cheer her up with some humor, and though she smiled at him, he knew she didn't mean it.

"He wants me to leave him." She felt each word burned into her mind like some horrid branding. "He thinks I should run away with you."

"I knew I liked that man." Damien attempted humor again and saw the pain in her face. He wasn't good at this. He didn't have deep, meaningful relationships. To his friends he was the party guy, good to go to for some fun, not the one you'd turn to with your problems. He didn't know how to deal with real, emotional problems. He'd never had any. "I'm sorry."

"You're only trying to help."

"And doing a shitty job of it."

"He's done this for as long as I've known him. He fights for what he wants, he's one of the most determined men I've ever known, but when he gets to close, he shuts down or pushes away."

"Too close to what?" Damien loved to study people, and he'd never met anyone as complex as Gregory House. If such things were possible, he would say he had a man crush on the great doctor. At least he could see what Cuddy saw in the man. Underneath all that bravado and assholery lurked a very troubled, brilliant man.

"Happiness? Success? He is pushing me away like he pushed Stacy away." She saw his confusion. "His only other long term girlfriend. After the Infarction that screwed up his leg he started to push her away until she finally couldn't take it anymore and left him. The thing is, as much as it hurt to lose her, I think he felt triumphant that he got her to leave." She still remembered when he'd told her Stacy left him. He boasted that he had been proven right. He told her, shortly after the surgery, that Stacy wouldn't stay with a crippled. It was part of the reason he was so angry, or so he said. So when he finally pushed her away, he had proven himself right. It was a sad victory.

"And then there was Hopkins. He was up for a prestigious internship there. He could have had everything, but he cheated. He could have aced the test, but he cheated, off a guy not even half as smart as he is. Why would he do that?"

"Maybe he doesn't want everything." Damien was taking a shot in the dark on this one. He couldn't claim to know a lot of Dr. Gregory House, but what he did know of the man had led him to believe that House would never have been happy as just a successful doctor, or as some noted professor. It wasn't fortune and prestige that fueled House.

"He could have had anything he wanted." Cuddy had a harder time understanding this. Her career had been built on success and recognition. Her motivations had been to be on top, to be in charge, to be number one. She was proud of all that she had achieved…but was she truly happy?

She did miss being in the trenches, working with patients, diagnosing and saving lives. She knew that what she was doing was important, and without her, those who worked for her wouldn't be able to save lives, but she did feel like she'd missed something somewhere along the line.

She always shook the feeling off. It was just House getting into her head again. House knocking her down for whatever perverse reason he had.

"Maybe he has what he wants." Damien was talking out of his ass now. He had no idea what Dr. House wanted. He had no idea what made the man tick. It wasn't the same thing that made Damien tick, that much he was sure of.

Damien lived as much as he could. House seemed to hide from life as much as he could. It was hard to understand that.

"He doesn't want this." Cuddy shook her head. House's life was a mess. He was miserable most of the time, he only had one friend, he had only had one real relationship before her. He hated his job. He hated his parents, or his father at least. He hated being in constant pain.

"How do you know that?" Damien appreciated where she was coming from, but really, how could she know what was going on in that man's head? How could anyone?

"I…" She didn't know. She certainly hoped that House wasn't actively seeking failure and misery. She wouldn't wish that on anyone, let alone the man she loved.

"Yeah." Damien smiled weakly. "You can't change the man he is. Why do you women always think you can change a man?"

"We don't."

"Oh, you do." Damien was talking from vast experience. Part of the reason he'd never had a long term relationship was that the women he'd gone out with all eventually tried to tame his wild ways. That's when they were all given some token of his affection and shown the door. "It must be habitual. I'm not sure you even know you're doing it." He was drifting off course. "Look, he loves you, no matter what he says. I can see it in his eyes every time he looks at you. He's pushing you away because he probably assumes you'll leave him eventually and he wants it to be on his terms.

"Remember what you said about Stacy? He's doing the same thing to you. Maybe it's a test. Maybe he wants to know that you'll stay with him, to really know that no matter what happens, you'll stick by him. Maybe he just wants a reason to be miserable. Either way, you have to decide what it is you want. Don't base your actions on what you think he wants, because House will never let you know what he truly wants. He's one of the most guarded people I've ever met. "

"You're right." She wiped her eyes one last time. "I know you're right." She looked over at her husband. She had married him for better or worse, and she'd meant it. So she took a deep breath and braced herself for the worst. "I will stick by him whether he likes it or not."

"Damn," Damien pretended to be upset. "You were supposed to say you were leaving him to come running off with me."

"Oops." She smiled and gave him a hug.

"No worries. I've still got my fantasies." He grinned lasciviously.

Cuddy cringed ever so slightly. "I don't even want to know."

"No, you don't."

The plane touched down a few hours later and a team of experts snapped into action. It was all a blur now, the paramedics that rushed House from the plane to the ambulance; the vehicle whizzing down the soggy Princeton streets; her most trusted staff helping to sneak House through the back door of her hospital. It was all just one fast moving tornado of action.

Cuddy sat by his bedside once the activity had subsided. His heart monitor beeped steadily in the quiet room. She had asked that his team, both old and new, not yet be informed of his condition. She needed some time alone with him before all the well wishers and the idle curious came flooding in. Wilson was the only one who knew he was there, but he was still in surgery.

The only other noise she heard was the rain pounding down on the windowsill. She was about to start crying again when she heard the door open.

"Oh my God! Is he alright?" Wilson came rushing in, still in his scrubs.

"You didn't leave in the middle of.."

"No no, the patient is fine. The tumor was successfully removed." Wilson was dismissive. He was far more interested in what was wrong going on with his best friend.

"He's stable."

"What happened?" Wilson looked at his friend in horror. Everyone had known this day would come, they just always hoped they'd end up being wrong.

Cuddy filled him in, leaving out the things House had said to her. She did consider Wilson a friend, she always had, but he was, first and foremost and almost completely, House's friend and she knew he would end up bringing it up with House when he was better. She didn't want it brought up. She wanted to forget it ever happened.

"You must have been so scared."

"Yes," she said, barely audible.

"What about a donor?" Wilson would give his liver if need be.

"On its way." One of the things that made Cuddy so incredibly good at her job was her ability to charm anyone into anything. She knew people. She understood motivations and desires and could almost always work that to her advantage. She'd even managed to do it to House once or twice.

"Good. What can I do to help?" Wilson wanted to do something. "Does his team know? How'd you get him in here? Want me to call Lo?" He wanted to do that last more for himself than for her, though it would be good for her to have a friend around.

"Slow down." Cuddy was overwhelmed by the questions. "Just, sit with him for a while. I'm going to go check a few things."

"Of course." Wilson was glad to have a moment with his friend. When the door shut behind Dr. Cuddy, he looked down at House was pity in his eyes. "What have you done now?" he said almost accusatorially.

Cuddy headed straight to her office. She ignored anyone who asked what she was doing there. No one dared ask twice.

"Do you think House is here?" Chase asked his girlfriend as they watched Cuddy hurry past.

"I haven't seen him." Cameron looked around the busy hallway. She half expected to see her former crush hurrying after his new wife. She buried the little glad feeling that he wasn't. "But I thought they were going away for two weeks." It had only been a week since the dean of medicine and head of diagnostics had left for their honeymoon. One week of Wilson's ineffectual leadership. Most of the hospital would be thrilled to see Cuddy return early. They would also be more thrilled if she'd left her ornery husband behind.

"That's what he said." Chase shrugged. "Haven't seen the Newbies either." It was Chase's nickname for the annoying replacement team House hired after losing his initial team.

Cameron headed toward Cuddy's office but was stopped by her boyfriend.

"Where are you going?" Chase held her arm.

"To talk to Cuddy."

"I don't think that's such a good idea." Chase knew when Cuddy was in no mood to talk, and this was one of those times.

"We have a right to know what's going on." Cameron broke free and hurried toward the Dean's office. Chase, too curious to resist, hurried off after her.

"Dr Cuddy?" Cameron knocked on the door as she pushed it open.

"What?" Cuddy snapped, staring at the young woman she had begged House not to hire.

"You're back?" Cameron was undaunted. She knew Cuddy didn't respect her, hadn't respected her ever since she found out about Cameron's crush on House. It didn't faze her.

"Apparently," Cuddy snided, in no mood for the noisy young doctor.

"Is House with you?" Cameron furrowed her brow. She knew she was treading dangerous waters, but she had to know what was going on.

Cuddy sighed heavily and put down the papers she was reviewing. "Close the door," she nodded toward Chase. Once it was closed, she took a moment, composing her thoughts, then told them what happened.

"Oh my God. Is he going to be alright?" Cameron's eyes grew wide in shock.

"If all goes well with the transplant surgery, he should be fine." Cuddy was trying to sound as professional as possible. She didn't want to fall apart in front of subordinates. Especially not these ones. House had gone out of his way to shatter their respect for her, she didn't need to add to that.

"What can we do?" Chase asked, anxious to be useful.

"You can go see him if you'd like. He's in room 227. He's heavily sedated and in and out of consciousness, so I don't know that he'll be responsive, but…"

"Thank you." Cameron felt a wave of compassion for the woman before her. They had never gotten along in the past, both having very different ideas about how women should behave in the work place, but despite House's best efforts, she did respect Dr. Cuddy for her accomplishments, and she knew what it was like to have a husband in the hospital. "If you need anything…" She took a step forward, but Cuddy held her off.

"I'll be fine. Go see House. It might do him good to hear some familiar voices." She didn't know if it would do him any good or annoy him to no end, but she just wanted to get rid of them. They meant well, and she appreciated it, but she wanted to be alone.

The young doctors left, hurrying down the hall to House's room. Cuddy went back to sifting through the mountain of mail left on her desk. If she managed to get through it all she might take a look at her hundreds of new e-mails, but she didn't think she'd get to those today.

Chase and Cameron stopped short when they reached room 227. All the blinds were drawn, keeping the contents of the room secret, but it was a pretty good bet that if Cuddy wasn't in there with House, then Wilson certainly was.

"Maybe we should knock," Cameron said respectfully.

"Knock?" Chase looked at her, then pushed open the door.

Wilson didn't really pay attention to their entry until Cameron put a hand on his shoulder. "Have you had a chance to speak to him yet?"

"I've been speaking. I don't know if he's been listening." Wilson put his hand on hers and squeezed it appreciatively. "He's still out."

"Then we won't stay. I just wanted to…" Cameron backed off on her words.

"I know." Wilson knew exactly how she felt.

Chase waited respectfully as the two shared their moment of quite crying, but he really had other things to do. "Um, I'm gonna take off." He felt heartless when Cameron and Wilson looked at him, but he wasn't the type of person who showed his love by sitting vigil at someone's bedside. It allowed too much time for contemplation, and if he contemplated what House meant to him, he would become as teary eyed as those two were.

Shortly after Chase left House opened his eyes. "Is he gone?" He said weakly.

Both Cameron and Wilson laughed with relief.

"So, this is my fan club, huh?" House was feeling pretty good. Whatever Dr. Olivieras had given him for the flight was still floating around his blood stream making him feel quite light headed.

"I'll go get Dr. Cuddy." Cameron turned to leave.

"Don't," House commanded.

"What's going on?" Wilson looked at his friend. He could tell with one glance that something bad had happened, something beyond the medical.

House glanced at Cameron then said "nothing."

"I should get back to work." Cameron could take a hint. But before she left she leaned over and squeezed his arm. "I'm glad you're okay." She smiled then left the room.

"She thinks this is okay?" House looked down at himself; laying in a hospital bed when he should be laying under his…he stopped the thought before it started.

"She meant she's glad you're not dead."

"Yet."

"House, don't talk like that."

"What? It's the truth."

"Cuddy found you a liver."

"Great." House groaned. Why couldn't she just hate him like everyone else did?

"House, that is good news. You're going to have the surgery and you'll be fine."

"I won't be fine."

"Well, you'll still be you, obviously, but you'll be out of this bed."

"Like I said…great." His enthusiasm still dragged painfully across the floor.

"What the hell happened on your honeymoon?"

House stared at the ceiling.

"House, talk to me?"

"I'm tired."

"House, you're going to talk to me." Wilson grabbed the tube that was sending wonderful pain killers into House's body. He bent it, cutting off the flow.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Making you talk to me. It's a technique I picked up at the School of House."

"You're an ass."

"You're a bigger ass."

"We had a fight." House gave in. He was too weak to do otherwise.

"You have fights all the time."

"I told her to leave me."

"Why the hell would you do that?" It had taken them how many years to finally get married? Now House wants her to leave him?

"Look at me Wilson." House was having trouble holding back. It was probably the drugs. "She shouldn't have to be chained to this!"

"She's not chained to you House. She wants to be with you. Why is it so hard to imagine someone would choose to be with you?"

"People don't choose to be miserable."

Wilson made a face. "You do."

"Get out!" House pointed his IV implanted arm at the door. Wilson walked out shaking his head.

Wilson ran into Cuddy in the hallway. "You don't want to go in there right now."

"Is he awake?" Cuddy tried to push past him but Wilson took her by the arm and led her down the hall.

"Let's go get some coffee, and talk."

"I've done enough talking." She pulled away from him and headed back towards House's room. She paused at the door and looked back toward Wilson. He was shaking his head. House's words came back to her. She wasn't ready to hear them again so she headed off toward her office to bury herself in work.


	9. Chapter 8

**-8-**

"House woke up in agonizing pain. He cried out.

"Stay still." Chase was trying to put the IV back into his arm.

"Why'd you take it out," House protested, not sure which hurt him more, the leg or the liver.

"I didn't. You were thrashing around in your sleep. It fell out."

"Well it wasn't put in very well then was it?" House snapped, in no mood to be considerate.

"Do you want me to nail you to the bed with it next time?" Chase was also in no mood.

"I want you to put it in so it stays in." House was feeling a bit better now, but it was a very small bit. "What time is it?" He looked around for a clock.

"It's ten past ten. Your surgery is in two hours and fifty minutes."

Cuddy met the helicopter on the roof. "Is that it?" She asked the young woman who climbed off carrying a fancy cooler with medical patches all over it.

"It is. Are you Dr. Cuddy?"

"Yes." Cuddy showed her credentials and they exchanged brief pleasantries as the liver exchanged hands.

"Dr. Forester says you owe him dinner."

"I owe him more than dinner." Cuddy nodded a goodbye and hurried the organ downstairs.

Wilson had cancelled all his appointments that day. He had to be there for House. He paced his office nervously, waiting for the hour to come. He kept telling himself that it was going to be okay, that House was going to be okay. He kept trying to find a way to put this on him. To find some blame in the matter.

"I shouldn't have sent him those pills." He muttered to himself irrationally.

Wilson had projected so much onto House in the past ten years. After his brother ran off, which was right around the time he'd first met House, he felt lost. Wilson had spent so much time looking after Bobby, trying to get him to clean up, trying to protect him from their parent's disappointment. When Bobby left, Wilson felt lost and more alone than he'd ever felt.

Then House came into his life. A troubled, broken man fresh from a surgery that would leave him crippled for the rest of his life. Wilson couldn't help but pour all his time and attention into House, his new Bobby. All the love he felt for his little brother, and all the resentment, were funneled into his relationship with House. All his doting, all his attempts to control House, to make him better, were all vicarious acts meant for his drug addicted brother.

Maybe that's why Wilson let it go on for so long, let House slip so far down before he tried to help. Maybe he needed House to hit the same rock bottom that his brother had hit. Maybe this was all his fault.

Chase had been given permission to assist in House's surgery after persistently stalking Cuddy until she agreed. He was now scrubbing up.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Cameron asked him anxiously, watching him wash his hands thoroughly.

"Cuddy wants someone who knows him to be there." At least she did after he convinced her to.

"Dr. Walsh knows him."

"Someone who knows him and still likes him," Chase corrected himself.

"Don't let anything go wrong." She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"I won't." They both knew he couldn't promise that, but they both felt a little bit better going through the motions. "Besides, you'll be up there watching over me the whole time."

"I wish I could do more." She frowned.

"Just try not to antagonize Cuddy too much, okay?" Chase knew how Cameron could get.

"I wouldn't…"

"Just stay quiet." She had a way of antagonizing people without meaning to. It was because she was so opinionated, and felt the whole world should hear every opinion that popped into her head. He found it adorable, but he was pretty sure Cuddy didn't share his affections.

"Fine," she pouted. "I'd better go up. It's almost time." She was nervous. She hadn't really known House that long really, only a small fraction of her time on Earth, but she couldn't imagine her life without him. It wasn't love, anymore, but there was still a deep affection. She still cared about him and wasn't ready to go on without him there, on the periphery, pushing her to be the best she could be.

Cuddy paced back and forth as Dr. Walsh went over the procedure with her. She wanted to make sure there was no chance of a screw up.

"You hired me because I'm the best." Like House, Dr. Karen Walsh was not a modest doctor. "I'm not going to screw this up."

"I know." Cuddy shook off her doubts. Every doctor in this hospital was tops in their field. From the day she took charge she had made it a point to go after high profile doctors. High profile doctors brought in high profile donors and high profile donors brought in mega millions. "I'm just worried."

"He's going to be fine." Dr. Walsh was staking her reputation on it. "He's too damned miserable to die."

Cuddy smiled. "He'd like that reasoning." She looked over at House. "Take care of him."

"I will do everything I can." Walsh gently pushed her boss out of the room and finished prepping for surgery.

The observation room had already begun to fill up when Cuddy arrived. Wilson was down front talking to Lo. Damien was lingering in the doorway and House's team both old and new were talking amongst themselves. Everyone stopped when Cuddy entered.

"Don't do that," Cuddy moaned. Their confused expressions made her finish her thought. "Don't act like this is his funeral and that I'm some sad widow you all have to be careful not to upset."

"We weren't…" Wilson started to protest.

"Of course we were." Damien came over and put his arm around his friend. "This isn't a sympathy hug. This is an I like being close to you hug." He wrapped her in a big bear hug.

"Why aren't you down there?" Cameron blurted out. She hadn't meant it to sound accusatory, it just did.

"What?" Cuddy turned and looked at her.

"You're Dean of Medicine. You can pull rank. You should be down there with him?" Cameron would be by his side. It would have taken the Jaws of Life to pull them apart.

"He wouldn't want me to be." Cuddy felt cold all of a sudden.

"You could…" Foreman pulled Cameron back and shushed her.

"She means well," Wilson whispered in Cuddy's ear.

"I know."

Everyone watched quietly. The young doctors watched with a combination of medical curiosity and concern for the former or current employer as Dr. Walsh pulled out his dying liver and replaced it with a new one. Wilson watched the tips of his shoes, unable to take the sight of his friend like that. Lo and Damien both watched Cuddy. They had more of a vested interest in what she was going through than what was happening in the operating theater below.

Cuddy was staring at her husband's face. His eyes were closed as he'd been put under. His face was craggy and worn. He looked older than she'd ever seen him. He almost looked like a corpse. She had to choke back the tears as she tried to think of him as anything but a corpse. The more she tried not to think of that, the more she thought of it.

"Here, take this." Lo pushed something into her friend's hand.

"What is it?" Cuddy looked down at the unfamiliar little pill.

"You're better off not knowing." Lo said mysteriously.

"She doesn't need pills," Damien said authoritatively. "What she needs is for everyone to stop fretting over her." He ignored the hypocrisy of the fact that he was doing as much fretting as anybody.

"All I need is for House to be alright." She was looking through the glass, down at the operating table. He looked so helpless, so small. She put her hand up to the glass, wanting to touch him, to hold him in her arms and tell him she would do whatever it took to save him.

"I know." Damien put his arm around her, carefully taking the pills away, just in case. "Take these back," he whispered to Lo, shoving them in her hand.

"He's going to be fine," Wilson assured her, trying to convince himself at the same time. "Walsh can do this operation in her sleep."

"I know." Cuddy said, still not ready to relax. Not until Dr. Walsh looked up and gave the all clear signal. That was when Cuddy let out a great sigh while those around her made equally relieved sounds and expressions.

"I'm going to go down and check on him." Cuddy left first. Wilson wanted to check on him too, but felt that Cuddy should have some time alone with her husband before they all bombarded him. In that vein, he held back the younger doctors who were enthusiastic to go say hi.

Wilson watched from the observation room, thinking about how close he'd come to losing his friend. He wasn't paying attention to the barrage of questions being fired off from the younger doctors as he watched Cuddy talking to a groggy House. He vaguely wondered what she was saying to him. He wondered if any of it would make House change his mind.

Cuddy was smiling down at him as House slowly opened his eyes. If he believed in such things, he imagined this would be what it was like to see an angel. There was a glow about her that seemed otherworldly, making her the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "Cuddy," he mumbled, half aware of his surroundings and half in a dream.

"I'm here," she said eagerly. She was so happy to hear his voice, to see his blue eyes, bleary as they may be. "I'll always be here."

He was too out of it to respond. He was too out of it to be angry at her for standing by him. All he felt in that moment was his overpowering love for her. All he wanted to do was hold her in his weak arms and never let her go. "I'm tired."

"I know." She laughed sweetly. He was his old, crotchety self. "We'll get you to your room and you can sleep for a while."

House did sleep, for hours. Cuddy sat by his bed. Wilson paced the small hospital room anxiously. Damien went and got refreshments and food for everyone and Lo tried to cheer everyone up with stories of her latest trip.

"I met this guy at the bar…"

"Of course you did," Cuddy laughed gently. She was feeling better now, knowing House was safe, but his words still nagged at the back of her mind. She pushed them away and focused on Lo's story.

"He was hung like an ox." Lo was ignoring the fact that Wilson was in the room, and that Wilson was still pining for her. She had told him to stop. She had explained to him how they would never work because she did not need to be rescued from anything as her life was quite perfect the way it was. "And he had stamina like you wouldn't believe."

Cuddy was aware of the tension coming from Wilson's side of the room. He had his backs to them, staring out the window, but she could see his shoulders tightened and hunched and his whole body seemed short and compact like he was folding up.

"I really don't need to hear about that right now," Cuddy said tactfully, looking at Wilson.

Lo followed her gaze. "Oh, of course not. So how was the honeymoon?" She had yet to be filled in on all that had happened. She was away on business and had cut her trip short when she heard the news.

"Good." Cuddy was holding House's hand tightly.

"Just good?" Lo flopped into a chair disappointedly.

"Considering it ended in an emergency liver transplant, yeah, just good."

"I meant other than that." Lo rolled her eyes. "How was the sex?"

Cuddy giggled girlishly. "Wilson can't handle hearing about the sex." Both women looked over at Wilson.

"What's going on?" Damien had returned with sandwiches for all. He passed them out as he tried to read the room.

"Hey," House's weak voice pulled all their attention. "That was gonna be my line."

"House!" Cuddy thrust her body excitedly toward him.

House let the warmth of her body wash over him for a moment. It would be the last time he would ever feel those arms around him or the sweet warmth of her breath on his cheek. He was about to do something he knew would prevent it from ever happening again.

In his mind, he knew it was stupid. In his heart, he knew it would kill him, and yet something compelled him. Something told him it had to be done. If he didn't do it now, he would lose his nerve. He pushed her away harshly. "I thought I told you to leave me alone!"

Everyone's eyes grew wide. It was clear who he was talking to, and after all she'd done for him, they were all speechless.

"Get out!" He yelled. He didn't care if they all went with her, but he couldn't bear to look at her, at the pain he was causing her, so visible in her beautiful face. "And don't come back!"

"Don't do this House," Wilson warned him.

"If you don't like it, you can go too." House couldn't handle Wilson's righteous indignation right now. "All of you. GET OUT!"

"It's just the drugs, and the pain," Lo was ushering Cuddy out of the room quickly. "Let's give him some time to cool off."

"I'm not cooling off," House called out after them, laying the bastard on thick this time, hoping it would be the last.

"She saved your life." Wilson tried to reason with his friend.

"I never asked her to."

"That's the point, House! You don't have to ask her. She would do anything for you." Wilson was exasperated. It was like talking to a wall sometimes.

"Well tell her to stop." House turned his back as much as he could in his present, tube fed condition. It was an indication that the conversation was over so Wilson dutifully left.

House waited a few minutes to be sure no one came back before straightening out again. "Oh, what the hell do you want?"

Damien hadn't left with the others. He had stood quietly in a corner waiting for them all to go. Now he was staring down at House. He could be a very intimidating figure when he wanted to be, and House felt even more helpless laying in that bed with no choice but to look up at him.

House tried to out stare him. Damien's dark eyes remained fixed upon him, unwavering. Even from a distance House could see that there was an angry storm swirling behind them, and he knew it was headed straight for him.

Damien stood silent for so long that when he finally spoke it was jarring, and his voice was so slow and methodical that House felt he was about to be murdered. "You are one stupid little shit."

"Thanks for the personality assessment, but you're a little late. That cat has been out of the bag for years." House was trying to make light of his terror. He knew of Damien's feelings for Cuddy and was one hundred percent certain he would kill for her.

Damien sat down quietly, his eyes still burning into the 'stupid little shit' in the bed before him.

"I'll call for the nurse," House threatened.

Damien took a deep breath. "You need to stop pushing her away because one day you might just succeed in breaking her down, and if you do, I will find you and kill you." Damien had never hurt anyone in his life, but he knew he was an intimidating figure and sometimes used that to his advantage.

"I'd thought you'd be happy that she's free now."

Damien snorted a disbelieving laugh. "She's not free. She'll never truly be free from you House. It doesn't matter what you do to her. You're like one of those infections that you never really get rid of. The symptoms might appear to go away, and on the surface she might appear to move on and find someone new, she might even seem happy, but you'll always there, like an infection, lying dormant just beneath the surface.

"Don't pretend you're being noble. Don't kid yourself into thinking you're saving her by letting her go. You're only condemning her to a loneliness that will never go away no matter who tries to quell it. So stop being so fucking self absorbed and think about what you're doing to her, the woman you clearly love." House tried to say something, but Damien wasn't going to let him talk his way out of any of this, and steamrolled on. "And I don't mean doing what YOU think is best for them. I don't know how to break it to you House, but you're not God. You don't know what's best for yourself, so how the hell can you possibly know what's best for her?" House opened his mouth but Damien lurched forward. The fright caused House to shut his mouth again quickly.

"Lisa deserves to be with the man she loves, and despite all the many reasons not to, she loves YOU. You should feel like the luckiest man in the world. You should be thanking your lucky stars that she hasn't come to her senses and walked out on your sorry ass. Instead you wallow in whatever sick, twisted bitterness you can muster and make her, yourself and every one else miserable.

"Well, Dr. House, it's time to pull your head out of your ass and be the man she deserves. Step up to the plate and take a chance. It's the least she deserves. And you know what? You deserve it too." Damien didn't hate House, despite his somewhat cruel rant; he respected the man who had been through so much, even if most of it seemed self inflicted. He just wished House would wake up and get on with his life.

"I can't be that man." House mumbled, finally able to get in a word or five.

Damien shook his head disgustedly. "You're full of excuses. She wouldn't put up with you if you couldn't be that man. It's time to stop hiding House. If you don't step up to the plate, I will, and you will lose her forever."

"You just said I'd never lose her."

"No. I said she'd never get over you. Trust me, there is a difference." With that Damien left. He knew enough about House to know that he could talk his way out of almost anything and he wasn't going to give him the chance. He needed to think about what he was really doing. He needed to understand what he was about to give up.

In the stillness of his hospital room, House began to cry. It was something that had happened so seldom in his life that at first he wasn't sure what it was. Then, as the tears began to burn his cheeks he cursed himself for his weakness.

"Real men don't cry," he could hear his father saying as he tried to build young Greg into a 'real man'. House usually retorted with something like "Real men don't abuse their children," or "Real men don't spend their time playing with toy trains." It was a lame comeback, but House had been a child, and hadn't been born with his quick wit. It was something he had worked hard to develop over the years.

He squinted through the haze and saw his father staring down at him. He knew perfectly well his father wasn't there. Cuddy had called them, against his orders, but they were on a cruise somewhere in the Pacific and couldn't make it back in time. There was no way his father was going to cut his expensive holiday short just because his only son's life was in jeopardy.

"She deserves a lot better than you," John House said in that dismissive, cruel way of his. "Ha, I shot better men than you in Korea forty years ago."

"I know," House mumbled. He'd heard how he was lower than the lowest, shadiest, dirtiest fighting North Korean soldier in the war.

"You're not even good enough to walk on your own two feet. How can you be expected to provide for her?"

"Ike has been out of office for years Dad, and women aren't wearing pearls and aprons in the kitchen anymore. Cuddy is perfectly capable of providing for herself." No one accused his wife of being weak.

"Oh, I see, so you expect her to take care of you; to spend the rest of her life as your nurse maid?" John House wasn't quite this cruel in real life, but in House's head, every small burn had grown immeasurable as the years of silence between them grew. His father had become a monster in his memories, and that was just as bad as if he really had been.

"She has done more for me than you ever have, and I never expected any of it. She does it because she loves me. She loves me Dad. Are you even remotely familiar with that emotion?"

"And this is how you repay her?" John snorted dismissively. Everything he did toward his son was dismissive. That part was true of both House's hallucination of his father and the real thing. John was never satisfied with anything his son did, and young Greg had spent his entire youth trying very hard to perpetuate that by purposely underachieving. If his father wanted a failure as a son, House was more than happy to oblige.

"You're not going to do this to me anymore!" House had had enough. He willed his father away. Not just out of his room, but out of his head for good. Cuddy believed in him, and it was time he made her stop regretting it.

"CUDDDDDDDYYYYY?" House called out her name. He needed to see her.

Cuddy was curled up on her office couch crying when Damien finally joined them. Lo was pouring drinks. "I'm getting her out of here. Wanna come?"

"I think we should wait." Damien motioned for Lo to pour him one and she did.

"Wait for what?" Lo walked a glass over to Cuddy.

"Just wait." Damien sat on the other side of Cuddy. They were her armed sentries, protecting her from as much as they could.

"Did you poison his IV?" Lo asked hopefully.

"Don't." Cuddy didn't want to hear any more about killing House for being such an insensitive ass.

"He deserves it Lisa." Lo was sick of giving House the benefit of the doubt. She'd never liked him, and always knew this day would come, and she wasn't feeling any satisfaction in being proven right.

"I said stop!" Cuddy drained her glass and slammed it on the coffee table. "I've had enough. I know he isn't perfect. I know he can be an asshole sometimes. But I love him, and I am not going to let him decide the rest of my life." She got up and headed stridently toward the door.

House was arguing with the nurse when Cuddy walked in. "Out!" She said authoritatively and sent the young subordinate scurrying.

"Where the hell have you been?" House was not a happy man.

"In my office."

"She said…"

"She was following my orders House." Cuddy sat down. She was trying to remain calm, not get emotional, but seeing him in the hospital bed brought back a flood of emotions.

"You were trying to avoid me." House knew why, and he didn't blame her, but it still stung.

"You wanted me to leave you alone."

"But you're here now." House lifted one eyebrow. Why was she here?

"Because you don't get to make all the decisions in this relationship House. I have a say too, whether you like it or not."

He liked it very much, but he kept that to himself. "Why would you even want to speak to me after what I said?"

Cuddy couldn't look him in the eye. "Because I know you didn't really mean it."

"I did…at the time." He mumbled quietly, but she'd heard him.

"Yes, but people are not defined by a moment House. I'd like to think we're more complex than that."

"WE certainly are," he replied, indicating their very tumultuous relationship.

"I just want to know why you said it?" She glanced quickly into his eyes but had to look away, afraid of what she might see in them. "As far as I can see, there are only three possible reasons. The first being that you really don't love me and do want me out of your life, but if that were true you never would have married me. You are not a man who gets himself caught up in something he doesn't want to be caught up in."

"I did want to marry you Cuddy…I do want to be married to you." He noticed her cringe at his use of past tense and corrected himself quickly.

"The second option is that you think I don't love you enough, and that you're testing me. You want me to leave you either to prove you right, or because you think I will eventually leave you and want to get it over with."

"I'm not that stupid," he said, half believing it.

A sad laugh escaped her lips. "That's debatable." She was feeling more confident as she went on. This time she looked him straight in the eye. She wanted the truth and she felt this was it. "The third option is that you want to free me from the burden of being with you." House shrunk a little into his bed but didn't say a word. "But that isn't your choice to make House. And if you have any respect for me at all, you will stop being an ass and let me decide who I want to spend my life with."

"You're right." He sounded broken down, beaten. He hated admitting that anyone other than him could be right about something.

"That's it?" She was slightly annoyed.

"No. I've been punishing you, for ten years, for not finding the infarction sooner, for letting your idiot surgeon hack into my leg, and for conspiring behind my back."

"I…" she didn't know how to respond to that. She'd never seen him this raw.

"I know. You were my doctor. You did what you had to do to keep me alive. But as my friend, you betrayed me."

"I'm so sorry House." She began to cry gentle, sad tears as the memory of that time came back.

"STOP BEING SORRY!" He couldn't stand it anymore. "You're a doctor, damn it. You did the right thing. You saved my life."

"But I was also your friend, and I let you down."

"I would have done the same damn thing!" House was angry, all the old emotions were being stirred up. Usually he would shut down, stop talking to her, push her away, but Damien was right. If he kept doing that he would lose her. It was time to try something new, honesty. And man did it hurt.

"If it had been Wilson lying there, I would have knocked him out with a club to get him into surgery. You did what you had to do Cuddy. Stop apologizing for it."

"I..." She wanted to say she was sorry, but realized this wasn't the time.

"Don't you dare say it!" House was talking through gritted teeth. "I am sick of you saying you're sorry. Don't be sorry. Be proud of what you did. Stand by your decision."

"But you didn't want the surgery." She didn't know what he was trying to say anymore.

"I was wrong!" House froze. He'd finally said it out loud. "I was wrong," he repeated quietly. "I was prepared to die to save my stupid leg. I wasn't thinking clearly. What is it I taught you about listening to patients?"

"Patients are idiots." She smiled weakly.

"Yes." He was proud of her. Despite everything he was proud that she stood by what she believed in, as a doctor. He'd never told her that. He'd always made her feel like shit for that decision, because it had affected him. "I'm not exempt from that." The more he admitted his infallibility, the easier it was becoming. "I was an idiot."

"I was selfish." If he was going to be honest, she should try it too. "I didn't want you to die. I didn't want to risk losing you."

"Then we're both idiots." House smiled. He felt…lighter. Like something heavy and oppressive had been lifted off of his chest. "Come here and give me a kiss." He wanted to grab her and pull her to him, but he was still too physically weak from the surgery.

She was crying as they kissed, hot tears of relief ran down her cheeks and slid into his mouth. They were salty on his tongue as it slipped past her lips. He had never needed the taste of her more than in that moment. It was a desperate kiss, a release of all the anger and bitterness that had built up in all those years of not speaking about the giant albatross that stalked them. They had just survived one of those moments that would have torn a lesser couple apart, and this kiss was a celebration of their victory.

When she finally pulled away, only because she was running out of oxygen and needed to catch her breath, she was smiling. Not just a weak upturn of the lips either. Her whole face was smiling, her eyes gleamed brightly, her skin seemed radiant, and her beautiful soft lips where spread over perfect white teeth.

"I forgive you for saving my life." It sounded stupid out loud, but he felt she had to hear it.

"I forgive you for pushing me away. Just don't do it again," she teased.

"Only if you promise not to save my life again," he teased back.

"I can't promise you that."

"I know." He smiled. "That's why I love you." He kissed her again. He'd missed the taste of her lips, the smell of her so close to him, the feeling of her warm body in his arms. He never wanted to live without her.


End file.
